No Date Of Importance
by Antipodes Ahoy
Summary: Once upon a time there was a boy with beautiful eyes, a cheeky dimpled grin and a generous heart. But life is a cruel capricious thing and slowly the boy, who once dreamed of being a gallant navigator for his King, became a man who looked out on his world with cold eyes, a sardonic smile and a blackened heart. So how in all the hells did that happen? AU once Season 5 E11 airs.
1. Prologue It's in the Stars

**Author's Note**  
 **As someone who only discovered OUAT last year it's been great to read the creative takes people have on the different characters. So in a fit of inspiration this is my first piece of creative writing I've done and my first fanfic. Mostly Killian's boyhood through the early years with his father and brother. As I live at the bottom of the world I do have a slightly different view after all; How did a gentleman and navy officer become a pirate?**

 **Rated T up to Chapter 16 then M for later chapters just to be on the safe side.**

 **I don't own the characters of OUAT.**

Killian Jones aka Captain Hook, feared pirate captain, villain, hero and "together" with Emma Swam, gazed up. He was now in tune with the ebb and flow of the once unfamiliar constellations, having realised some were an upside down version of the ones he knew by heart, though others were completely foreign to him. It had never hindered his ability to navigate his way through unknown realms before, so he had studied Storybrooke's night sky with his usual meticulous approach.

He had been able to deduce the relative time of year back in the Enchanted Forest by these new celestial patterns. Some of Storybrooke's braver town folk (who were finally getting over their justified fear of the pirate) thus came seeking his help. Would he be able to calculate when an anniversary was? Would he be able to give a date for this festival or that celebration? He obliged, able to calculate the equivalent date to within a few days and was always gratefully rewarded.

These payments helped him with the new realm's barter system. He being a very conscientious pirate, had buried a fair sized hoard of treasure somewhere safe along the coast, before he and Cora had finally landed that night at the docks. Payments meant fewer trips to the said hoard and therefore less chance of its discovery and also helped cover the day to day necessities. Coffee and food at Granny's was an expense best paid in dollars rather than stolen doubloons after all, for a man endeavouring to return to good form. His help also made people a little less intimidated by "Hook" and more likely to smile at "Killian" when encountering him around the town.

Having worked out a calculation for one of the Merry Men, who had been so excited to obtain a Storybrooke date for one of their traditional seasonal feasts, the man didn't notice the shadow passing over Killian's face. Once alone he checked his calculations again. The date was something he hadn't thought about in hundreds of years and was something he rarely "celebrated" when he had.

With all the changes and shifts (both physically and emotionally) in Killian's life these last few years, awareness of the looming date had left him feeling very out of sorts. With vengeance as his only motivation for so long, its absence had opened him up to all sorts of other emotions; some downright disconcerting to a pirate with his fierce reputation and more often than not at a most inconvenient or embarrassing time. So Killian, not wanting his beloved Emma or her family to be on the receiving end as he felt himself slip into a black mood, simply left a note saying not to worry as he quietly sought some solitude. He could have taken his newly returned ship out but knew its' presence in the harbour would comfort Emma for the few days he'd be gone. He wouldn't be at all surprised to find his bed had been slept in upon his return with the odd stray blonde hair on the pillow pointing to the culprit.

Killian found himself an isolated spot along the coast, a sandy cove where his supplies, a few bottles of rum and the bare essentials for two days of some rough living would suffice him. Lighting a fire for warmth he settled down on his sleeping roll. He had donned his pirate dust coat for comfort. It had provided him with countless nights of protection over the years from the elements. A light rain had started to fall but that didn't bother the captain. Closing his eyes and sighing deeply Killian allowed long forgotten thoughts and buried feelings to wander where they may, as he tried to remember something of his youth and contemplated the tribulation that was his birth date.


	2. Pieces of Eight

Pieces of 8

It was a solid, elegant two story manor built out of the honey coloured stone of the region. Nestled amongst a moderate well-tended farm estate the house was circled by formal gardens to the front and sides with a wild meadow running to the sea cliffs from the back. The manor overlooked a small, sandy bay from its vantage point. To the south, the royal naval base of Ariston could just be seen through the sea mist at the end of the large sweeping southern bay.

It was from the meadow, hungry blue eyes surveyed the house, plotting its plunder.

Pirate Killian Jones scourge of the open seas gave his crew the once over. A motley crew to be sure but he trusted none more to help him gain the nearby treasure, and they were determined to claim it. The sound of a bell being rung gave him the signal he had been waiting for, it was now time to surprise these landlubbers and take what was theirs.

"Follow me lads there be treasure to be had just around the corner," Killian yelled as he started off at a sprint, his crew cheering behind him hard on his heels. They rushed through the topiary running as fast as they could, rounded the corner and straight into the unexpected sight of the Royal Navy's most tenacious captain.

"Well what have we here? Pirates by the looks of it on an ill-conceived raiding party," the tall finely dressed captain spoke to his fellow officers, humour lacing his deep voice as he took in the sight of eye patches and head scarves.

"Aye I be the dread Captain Pirate Killian Jones and we've come to claim the treasure," his voice only a little uncertain at the sight before him, Killian managed to puff his chest out and wave his sword about with a flourish.

"And does the dread captain pirate know the penalty for carrying out such actions? Do his crew know the fate that befalls pirates that dare to raid this fine house hold?"

"Umm well….."

"Perhaps your crew will put down their swords and talk terms of surrender before the Royal Navy," the captain waved his hands to the officers flanking him, large grins on their faces, "submits you dastardly pirates to our most terrible punishments."

"Never! My crew will never surrender."

"Umm actually I will" said Ross, looking at the imposing figure of the navy captain in front of him

"Higgins you traitor…"

"Can we parley Captain sir?" asked Samuel, the other pirates nodding in agreement.

"Smith you bilge rat," Killian looked horrified as his crew one by one put down their swords.

"Parley is it?" The naval captain laughed "Well well Pirate Jones seems you have a mutiny on your hands."

Jones blushed and glowered at his crew

"What be your terms then you turncoats for handing over the Dread Pirate Jones to the Royal Navy?"

The pirates were silent for a moment thinking what would be the best terms they could hope for.

"Could you not tell my mum I'm on a pirate raiding party?" said Thomas "She'll curfew me for a month if she found out you caught us making trouble sir."

"And could we not be force fed Brussel sprouts if you throw us in the brig? That would be the worst punishment ever!" Harry exclaimed.

"And no daily bath times please sir, don't make us have to take baths all the time," Connor shuddered.

"Are we still allowed some of Mrs Bristol's scones if we go quietly?" Samuel asked hopefully.

The captain laughed. "Well since you all surrendered so politely I think that can be arranged."

"Now form a straight line pirates and the lieutenants will escort you to Mrs Bristol and her scones."

"But as for you Pirate Jones, well I'm afraid that we can't let this go unpunished. It's to be the most severe punishment for you. The Royal Navy does have the most dreaded punishment for those who fly the crimson flag." he boomed.

Killian's face dropped at the thought of what might be coming his way as the naval captain grabbed him.

"I hear by sentence you to a thorough tickling."

"No!" He squealed in an embarrassing girlie voice "no…. I ….will…. not sur….ren…der…"

It was no use his father had him firmly pinned down as he proceeded to tickle the young lad without mercy in front of his friends and the accompanying lieutenants.

"Dare to besmirch the Jones family name by turning pirate ay lad? "

Killian could only carry on squealing for a few minutes, helpless to his father's tickles

"Do you surrender lad and promise to go on the straight and narrow?"

"I prom promise …..please….. mercy….mer..cy I sur..render."

"Very well."

Killian's father then embarrassed him further by planting a huge kiss on his cheek "Surrender accepted pirate."

"Off with you lads, facing Mrs Bristol's wrath if you let her scones go cold be even worse than what the Royal Navy can dish out."

"Right lads line up in a straight line," the lieutenant bellowed happy to play along with the young boys "Now left march left right left right."

The captain smiled as the boys let the two lieutenants march them in a row towards the courtyard where the promise of tasty food was awaiting them.

Captain Tobias Jones then picked his eight year old son up off the ground and dusted him off, giving the boy a heartfelt onceover. He had grown a little since the captain was last on shore though still small for his age given his lineage. His dark hair the usual disarray now his pirates scarf had been dislodged, blue eyes beaming up at his father, his cheeky grin plastered over his face.

"How long are you home for Father?"

"Three weeks Killian," the captain grinned back. He was a strict captain at sea but at home he let that demeanour slip a little and simply became an affectionate father. Killian warmly embraced his father, _three whole weeks_ , sighing contently against the captain's shoulder.

"So you turned pirate ay lad?" "I must be having a word with Bristol to keep a stricter eye on you, keep you from going wayward while I'm at sea."

Killian could tell his father was jesting with him "Well sir we are talking Mrs Bristol's scones, a treasure beyond treasures."

Captain Tobias laughed at that. "True tis a tempting haul, to even the Good King's most loyal navy men." He took his youngest son's hand and walked towards the courtyard to join the others.


	3. From Father to Son

From Father to Son

After the initial surprise of seeing the captain arrive home unannounced, Mrs Bristol had greeted her master warmly and seen that everyone had been well fed. The lieutenants helped unload their captain's trunks from the dray and bid him adieu until they were to return to collect him, dropping the want to be pirates off at their various homes on their way back into the port town.

The Jones was a sea fairing family, three of those generations patriachs serving as royal naval captains. This estate was Tobias Jones family legacy to his two sons, his eldest Liam 17 and now a second lieutenant in the Royal Navy out on the seas somewhere. His young Killian cared for by his faithful house keeper and estate overseer with the neighbours Dr Nathaniel and Lucy Williams acting as Killian's formal guardians, during his father's absences at sea. It was a small estate, enough for six permanent staff to manage and it anchored the Jones family to the nearby naval port and growing market town of Ariston, serving their Good King's southern provinces.

The captain settled into his rituals of returning home. He inquired after the staff and general business with his estate manager Bristol over a hot brew. He would then saddle his favourite steed and ride around the small estate if the weather allowed, with young Killian on his pony at his side, happily chatting away about his days during his father's absence. After the evening meal and the usual failed attempt to get said over excited young son into bed at the normal hour (why could he command a ship with absolute authority but was bested by an eight year old he could only ponder) the captain would retire to his study.

Tobias pulled out the top draw from his desk and retrieved the leather folio from it, opening it up to the small but accurate portrait of his wife Esmeralda.  
He smiled wistfully."Our boy is growing up fast, and he is as charming and quick witted as you my beloved."  
He then reached for the heavy iron key at the back. At this time of year there was enough light for his customary visit without the need for a lantern so the captain strode across the lawns taking in the warm evening air as he walked towards his beloved's grave.

Tobias had the family burial plot enclosed within a new walled garden while Killian was still a toddler. It housed a small elegant chapel for him and Liam to visit, containing his wife's beautiful formal portrait and an altar for remembrance. The captain had been gifted a marble statue of his beloved from one of her many artist friends, a master sculptor she had sat for in her youth. It was so hauntingly a likeness Tobias often found himself talking to it when visiting her grave. There were the Jones family graves as well including three young lives that he and Esmeralda had put to rest between Liam and Killian's arrivals, the baby siblings the boys never knew off.

The garden, lovingly created by the estate staff, reflected all that their mistress had cherished in the world. Her love of plant specimens from many realms and vibrant colours found throughout. She had been an exceptional artist with nature being one of her favourite inspirations. Their sons' artistic tendencies and restless exploration of the natural world around them inherited from her. Tobias was grateful Killian was oblivious to the true nature of this sanctuary which the boy accepted by his father's decree as off limits. So far "She died when you were very young," had kept Killian's curiosity satisfied. The father wished to protect his sensitive son forever from the cruel reality of his birthing day, though Tobias knew he would bring Killian in here one day; the boy was too perceptive not to work out the truth of his mother's passing eventually.

There was a deep concern within the royal fleet at present with their Good King being frail and the peace of the realm at a very palatable period of uncertainty with no named definitive heir. Thus it was with a rare melancholy; Tobias found his thoughts drifted back to those first difficult years as he entered the peaceful enclosure.


	4. A Beginning starts with an Ending

**A/N I'm going with the premise "Little Brother" is nine years Liam's junior and they were around 22 and 31 years of age in "Good Form".**

Everyone had been surprised when the musically and artistically accomplished, captivating Esmeralda had fallen for the rather stiff, shy navy lieutenant. He had by chance attended one of the soirees she performed at in Port Regal, the Kingdom's seat of power. He has fallen for her almost at first sight and she couldn't help but notice the tall officer with his broad shoulders and curly hair smiling shyly at her. After three more attendances he plucked up the courage to ask if he may court her. Somehow these two opposites had found a perfect balance in their temperaments. They had made a life together that was both steadfast and passionate, music and the arts combined with the sciences and military disciplines, all equally at home in the Jones estate. Liam had arrived after three years together enriching their happiness, though there were also the difficult times marred by the heartbreak of miscarriage and still born babies, until at last Killian was carried to full term.

The proud mother looked weak but radiant with the joy of holding their long awaited second child born in the morning of an early summer's day. Their dear friend Dr Nathaniel Williams and the midwife had been in attendance and all seemed well. Esmeralda held her baby to her still not quite believing their new son was finally here as she suckled him, his father tenderly watching them both with a joyous smile. By the evening she had simply slipped quietly away, leaving a devastated widower and their nine year old to grieve her sudden loss.

Despite the exhaustion, despite the grief weighing him down like an anchor Tobias couldn't sleep that first nightmare of a week.

One night he finally gave up on having any respite from wakefulness and headed for the kitchen, perhaps a warm drink would help? He had barely eaten the past five days. Neither had young Liam; the boy was a great comfort to him at the loss of his beautiful Esmeralda as they tried to bravely face the world together without her loving presence.

Down in the kitchen he was greeted by the baleful screams of his new born son and Mrs Bristol with the wet nurse she had found for the boy. The nurse was pacing in front of the large kitchen hearth trying to settle the lad. Concern laced their voices as they spoke quietly while the babe fretted.

"Melisa says he cries and won't settle cause he took his mama's life an his soul will be for ever troubled by the burden of it."

"Nonsense, Melisa should stick to raising chickens, he's just an innocent babe. If that were the case half the souls in the known realms would be damned, child birth is a risky thing and we all know the cost, we all have family and friends who didn't survive it." Mrs Bristol admonished

"Well his father hasn't been to see him once so I think she may be on to something. I'm surprised the babe 'as still got breathe n voice to cry, been four days of this, pitiful little wretch."

"Aye well between arranging dear Mrs Jones funeral and all, the poor man hasn't really had a chance to attend to the lad. He's been more concerned with young Liam."

"Well I don't know how any man could love a child that took away his wife, I tell you this wee lad he'd been better off joining her and if I can't get him to suckle properly he soon will be." The wet nurse said carelessly.

"Perhaps we need to get some poppy Mrs B? His wee body must be exhausted with this caterwauling, what are we to do?"

"I'll send for the midwife tomorrow, maybe she has some tricks, I've used up all mine. I'll not have the captain bury a wife and a son in the same week." Mrs Bristol said with determination.

Tobias stood at the door feeling uncertain on how to cross the threshold of the kitchen into the world of these women and their maternal activities. He stood there, mulling over the wet nurses words, as he watched her put Killian down in a simple crib within the warm light of the kitchen fire. The boy simply bellowed even more.

"Maybe some rum would help, just for the rest of the night?" she asked hopefully of Mrs Bristol. Whether for herself or to quiet Killian, Tobias couldn't be certain.

Mrs Bristol rolled her eyes and looked over to the door startled at seeing him standing there.

"Captain!"

"Mrs Bristol may I trouble you?"

"Captain Sir, come, sit down, what shall I get you?"

"Could I avail you of something to drink to settle my stomach, have we some goats milk in the house?"

"Aye sir I'll warm it up."

She grabbed the wet nurse and headed for the larder.

Tobias wearily walked over to the crib and looked down at his new son. The babe had the dark hair of his mother and maybe her lungs too by the sounds of it. He gently stroked Killian's fine down and after a few moments gently picked his boy up, holding him to his broad shoulder. Tobias started to gently rock the infant, letting silent tears of grief trickle down his cheeks. Slowly the babes' cries lessened and became more a snuffling, fretting sound, perhaps sensing the paternal bond between them helping to calm him.

"Oh Killian, your mother and I waited so long to bring you into this world. She may have left me lad but she left me with you, so no Killian you are _not_ cursed and you will be loved my boy. I will never let you bear the burden of her passing."

He sat down in front of the fire and began to sing his son a mournful song of the sea. Mrs Bristol hoped the tears running down her cheeks didn't make the milk she was warming too salty.


	5. Early Days

Tobias had been grateful it was a time of peace and prosperity in the realm. The Admiralty allowed him to abandon ship so to speak and undertake a position for those first five years at the Ariston Royal Navy command post. Liam was procured a governess and Killian was put under the care of a recently widowed much more sensible wet nurse, grateful for the lodgings and security the post provided her and her two young children. Killian never truly questioned why he didn't have his mother, his young years being surrounded by caring staff, an attentive father and an older brother he clearly idolised. He never noticed though they often did, that someone was missing in their lives.

Eventually the call of the sea and his royal duty had lured Tobias back to captaining a naval vessel and young Liam had reached the age of earning his naval commission as a midshipman. It was hard on both of them to leave him at first, but after the initial pouts and tears, five year old Killian simply adapted and accepted sometimes his father and brother were home, sometimes they were not. He didn't really know any different as he grew into boyhood. His heart always trusting they would return back to him and his content domestic world.

Tobias had ensued that the estate followed one of the older traditions of the realm where all birth dates of the household were celebrated together at midwinter rather than on the individual days. It was also a time he was likely to be at home as some of the fleet stood down during the stormier months of the year, for routine maintenance at Ariston. It became a much loved time for the Jones and their staff to gather and feast and share in celebration. The Jones boys were able to entertain everyone with their musical talents as they got older, Killian quite adept on the mandolin for his young age, Liam entrancing with his clear singing voice.

Killian's actual birth date was never made a fuss of. It was just another summer day in the Jones household. Later in the evening the staff paid their respects to Mrs Jones memory once her son was tucked up in bed and asleep. They lay flowers on her grave, lit candles in the chapel for her and carried out their realm's rituals for remembering departed souls. Tobias was nearly always at sea this time of year and he was deeply touched by this simple act of remembrance by the estate staff for his family. This is how the traditions of the latest Jones generation came to be.


	6. Origins and Honour

A/N Contains a few words of swearing though used as the true definition of the word before the english language got well...you know what I mean.

Origins and Honour

It was a warm mid-autumn day so Tobias on shore leave for a few weeks, decided to ride into Ariston to accompany Killian back from his lessons, in what was once the growing town's former alderman building. Killian attended three times a week, during the milder seasons of the year as did other rural children from the genteel families wishing their children to be socialised with their peers rather than privately tutored. Nathaniel's older son also attended and often the boys would ride in together along the clifftop lanes down into Ariston, a pleasant horse ride of less than an hour.

When he arrived through the school gates Tobias noted Nathaniel's steed already tethered.

Nathaniel had spotted the captain from the window he was staring out of, while absorbing the heated conversation going on behind him in the school master's office. He rushed down to both greet and warn his friend of the upcoming tempest.

Killian and a fellow student had been in a fight. Nathaniel was relieved Tobias had unexpectedly shown up knowing his social standing and captain's rank would go some way to defuse Cranwell's high handed demands upon the master to punish Killian.

"Tobias I'm afraid Killian is in a bit of bother with John Cranwell, the father of Peter, a rather troublesome boy," he informed his friend as Tobias dismounted.

"It appears they had an altercation which ended up with the lad in the courtyard fountain. The man is demanding Killian be severely reprimanded for endangering his son's life!"

Tobias frowned. Killian was not prone to rough fighting, though of course he was being taught to spar and sword fight. He was slight of build and often smaller than his peers unlike Liam who had been solid even when young and able to stand his ground. Killian used his quick mind and smart mouth to mostly get him out of trouble (as much as into it) and his natural agility and speed to get away from it.

They made to enter the offices of Mr Manson the school master, Cranwell's raised voice heard from the bottom of the stairs ranting. Tobias raised his ever expressive eyebrows to his friend in concern.

Killian upon seeing his father walk into the room instantly cast his eyes down in shame.

John Cranwell looked like he had been offered a prize horse seeing the lad's father in his sights, relishing the chance of disabusing the Jones boy to his high and mighty father.

Seeing the look on Cranwell's face Tobias instantly used his imposing stature and authority to squash any notion of the man lording it over him.

"So what is going on here gentlemen?" he demanded.

"Captain Jones it is good to see you here," the master said respectfully and with a touch of relief.

"Killian and Peter have had an altercation Captain. Peter ended up in the fountain and …."

"And that brat practically tried to drown my boy Manson, don't beat around the bush," Cranwell interrupted.

Tobias looked at the boy Peter. Taller and stouter than Killian and much damper too, he wondered how that it came to be his son wasn't the one that ended up in the water.

"Killian look at me," his firm no nonsense voice demanded "Killian why were you trying to _drown_ this lad?"

Killian gave his signature pout and mumbled to the floor.

"He said nasty things that aren't true about me and also you father, I was defending our honour."

"And what things would they be Killian, that you _dishonour_ our name by common brawling?"

Killian frowned at his father's reprimand. He took a deep breath and looked up to the imposing captain with those sea blue eyes searching hard for something.

"Peter says everyone knows I haven't got a proper mother and I was really found on the beach by you covered in seaweed and am the brat of a selkie and if I'm not really your son and you aren't really my father that makes me a smelly selkie's bastard!" he rushed.

"A bastard Killian," Tobias raised his eyebrow in characteristic Jones surprise "Where would boys your age even learn of such a term? Do you even know what it means?"

Both boys had an expression on their faces that meant they clearly didn't.

Tobias looked at the other adults in the room. He noticed Cranwell's sudden discomfort.

" _Ah,"_ he thought _"There we have it; the son repeats the father's actions."_

Cranwell was known to be a bully and a self-righteous git, he wasn't noted for his kindness to his poor wife or son and well there were those rumours of course of a cuckolding.

Killian thought about his father's words and confessed "Well sir I am not entirely sure, is it like when a bitch gives birth to puppies that come out different looking to what you were expecting? Mr Bristol calls them bastardised, though he's never sounded as mean about it as Peter."

"Aye Killian it is ungentlemanly indeed to use that term, unfounded or not."

"Now lad why would you and others be thinking I'm not Killian's father?" he asked Peter as Tobias shot Cranwell a dirty look.

"I…I don't know Sir." After a pause Peter continued "He doesn't look anything half as much like you as his big brother does."

Tobias knelt down to his still pouting son and placed a hand affectionately on Killian's shoulder.

"Aye Peter because he has more his mother's looks that's for certain and all who knew her would see the likeness immediately, just as you look more of your mother," he added in kindness.

Killian let out a small huff.

"Killian's mother was a most enchanting woman Peter" Tobis continued "but I can assure you as can Dr Williams here that she wasn't a selkie and I didn't find Killian under a pile of seaweed."

"Now lads brawling is unbecoming to young gentlemen so Killian and Peter shake hands and no more of this nonsense understood."

The boys did as they were told though reluctantly.

Cranwell sneered and whined "And what of Killian nearly drowning Peter?"

The other three men looked at him in disbelief given the obvious disadvantage Killian had in physically besting Peter.

"I will see he is punished for it sir. Good day to you."

Given a very definite dismissal by the naval captain the unsatisfied father harrumphed out of the room with his wet son.

Sternly looking at Killian, Tobias decreed "I mean it Killian about your punishment, you are a sailor's son and trying to drown someone is not something to be trifled with under any circumstances, now go saddle your horse."

They watched as the youngster left the school master's room, head bowed by his father's reprimand.

"So tell me master how is my son really doing?" Tobias sighed as he watched his son from the window crossing to the stables lacking his usual energy, shoulders hunched.

"He does well Captain. He is charming and a perfectly affable young gentleman most of the time," the master said with affection.

"He does well at his lessons?"

"Yes well enough given the circumstances, it is not easy for him to stay attentive."

"What! He is not paying attention to his lessons. Is he misbehaving and being tardy Master?"

"No not at all, you misunderstand me Captain. Your son is exceedingly clever, how he out maneuvered that bully Peter and landed him in the fountain being a rather unfortunate example of his prowess." the master said shaking his head with some humour.

"The truth is he has exceeded most of what I can teach him for his age. Your son's love of languages and cultures from other realms means he has thoroughly exhausted my library. Along with his rather impressive mathematical ability I fear it means he is often bored with my lessons. The school has much to offer for him in most subjects but I think you need to think about hiring a tutor a few extra hours a week to stretch his intellect Captain. The boy loves a challenge."

Nathaniel chuckled from his corner "So he's a clever little _bastard_ Tobias!"

On the way home Tobias listened as Nathaniel talked to Killian about his theories of inheritance with animal and plant breeding and certain medicinal conditions he had been studying in his patients, as well as the traits one got from their parents. Killian was totally enraptured by the discussion, his ceaseless questions not bothering the good doctor at all.

Tobias thought about Manson's advice and wondered if it might be time to take Killian out to sea more often and teach him the sextant and other tools of his captaincy. Maybe a few shorter voyages would be expedient to stretch the boy's intellect and hone those mathematical skills to something practical like navigating and charting. Killian had always loved maps and astronomy.

Nathanial finished his talk with "That's why you have your mothers beautiful eyes, her dark hair and pointed ears Killian and Liam has more your fathers eyes, curls and lighter hair, though unlike Liam you definitely have inherited your fathers eyebrows." he chuckled glancing back at his friend.

He then burst out laughing as father and son both raised the said eyebrows Jones style, in perfect synchronicity to each other.

Tobias sat in the dinghy on the farm pond, his son stripped down to his breeches standing on the small jetty. "Go on in you get."

Killian looked at the water dubiously scratching behind his ear in nervousness.

" _Just like me_ ," Tobias silently noted.

"It's cold!"

"Aye son, that's why it's your punishment, not a leisurely swim."

Killian pouted not liking this punishment at all. He'd rather get the strap which on a few occasions he had been given for being _way_ too mischievous for his own good, endangering himself or property with his youthful antics.

"You need to learn to take the cold when you are a sea captain lad. You can't go running to your warm cabin during a raging storm. Learning to endure the cold particularly in the water can be the difference to survival and drowning. Now get in."

"Have you ever had to swim for your life father?" the boy asked stalling the inevitable plunge.

"Aye son a couple of times and if you are ever unfortunate enough to be in that situation this will help you prepare for it. Drowning is a horrible death my boy."

The boy reluctantly did his father's biding. He was a fair swimmer already. Tobias kept him in the water until he deemed Killian's body had almost reached its limit. It became another routine for Killian's days with Tobias in becoming "One hell of a captain."


	7. Almost a Ten

Almost 10

Killian wasn't entirely sure what a birthday party celebration was since his family followed the old traditions. But he had been given the beautiful invitation by his friend Sarah herself. So it was with much pomp he was put in his best clothes and sent along with the Williams and their two younger children to what the adults deemed a most prestigious social event at the Pennington's large estate. Killian didn't care about the fuss being made; Sarah was one of his best friends at their school and she had promised him there would be cake and games, that's all that mattered to him.

The two friends sat huddled in conspiracy in a large formal room, surrounded by adults discussing things only adults could deem important. The house simply glowed with spring festivity. Apparently turning ten was a big occasion in this house hold Killian mused.

"This is all for your birth date?" Killian asked looking around at the elaborate decorations and abundance of various temptations of food placed around the grand room.

"Yes Mama says it is important to make a bold statement on my coming into my first decade," she sighed. Never of them understood that with the various ills and dangers of childhood to reach the age of ten was quite an accomplishment in their realm.

"Doesn't it make you happy Sarah?" he noticed his friend's slightly quiet demeanour. At school she could raise hell with the best of them out in the fields when they were allowed out of their lessons.

"Yes it's all very beautiful, it's just….."

"What?" Killian asked gently taking his friends hand and pressing his forehead to hers so they could talk more privately in their own world, oblivious to gossiping grownups.

"It's just I am afraid I will do something wrong and then Mama will become angry at me. She wants everything to be perfect today. It has taken weeks to prepare this."

"What could you do wrong Sarah, come on lets go get some of those bonbons before Albert scoffs the lot," his gorgeous smile instantly relieving his friend's nervousness as he pulled her up off their seat and they went to seek candied treasure.

Later after games and more delicacies Killian wandered out to the grand staircase looking for Sarah.

He saw her with her mother, a woman who didn't looked pleased at all as she admonished Sarah for getting her attire messed up (Killian might have had a bit to do with that, after all it was a chase game called Grasp the Goose). Killian occasionally pondered what having a mother might have been like but seeing this cold and reprimanding woman before him, he was simply grateful for Mrs Bristol and Alice's warmth and fussing.

He found himself staring at Lady Pennington's portrait at the top of the stairs. It was an accurate likeness. She was beautiful and elegant, dressed in formal attire and bejewelled in the painting, like the real version across from him. He wondered what his mother really looked like, if he really did resemble her as people often said. His father had showed him the miniature he kept in his desk, giving him some idea of her features. Killian's musings were interrupted by Higgins dragging him off for another game in need of a few more participants.

Later while getting a drink at the buffet from one of the serving staff, Killian heard over the noise "Jones." Killian found himself eavesdropping on some of the ladies clustered to his left, thinking the lad could not hear their remarks, as they openly discussed his father and him.

"He's never remarried?"

"No I guess he was too heartbroken, such a pity for such a fine respectable man to be widowed early and remain so."

"The boy is a striking looking lad, so like his mother."

"Yes he is. It must be hard seeing her remarkable eyes stare back at him when the Captain looks at his son though."

"Maybe that's why he is always away at sea. It's just too painful to be here with the memories."

"Well we will never go to the lad's 10th birth date celebration that's for sure. Who would want to celebrate the same day they lost their beloved?"

"Mrs Beetham! Please have a care not to say such things," a familiar voice admonished the tactless woman.

"Dr Nathaniel Williams why I only meant…."

Killian stiffened, had he heard right? He couldn't be sure. He quickly busied himself in the task of getting some pastries to hide his sudden awkwardness. Suddenly Dr Williams was beside him.

"Killian my boy." he was looking at Killian concern on his face.

"Sir," Killian gave him his best sweetest grin "Would you like some punch Dr Williams?"

"Thank you lad that would be good," Dr Williams smiled, relieved by the boys happy countenance

On the way home Nathaniel put Killian's quiet demeanour down to tiredness, little did he know the boy was using that clever mind of his to find out exactly what Mrs Beetham meant.


	8. Plots

Plots

Killian thought hard all the next day about those words he was not meant to hear. That and the increasing cruel taunts by the likes of Peter of him not having a real mother, added to his determination to find some answers. He had been so quiet Mrs Bristol checked his forehead for a fever then decided to put it down to tiredness from an over exciting previous day. Killian withdrew to his room in the early afternoon and pulled out the beautiful invitation for Sarah's party from under his pillow. Staring at it hard he knew what he must do.

It was a horrible feeling to sneak into his father's study. He knew he was doing wrong. Killian could be mischievous and naughty occasionally but never out right disobedient.

The only time Killian really ever openly disobeyed his elders was when he and some local boys carried out their annual raids on Mr McBeth's orchard in autumn for apples. The owner and the boys had a mutual understanding this was the way of things, they'd raid and plunder, he'd give a half-hearted chase and yell unmentionable curses at them, both parties finding the whole experience exhilarating.

Killian pouted as he thought through his next steps. Somewhere here in this room there must be a clue to his mother's passing. He thought about the small portrait his father kept in his desk. Going through the draws Killian's father's tidy habits made the search easier but unsuccessful. A small draw at the top of the large desk drew his eye. Locked! Killian tried to remember if he had ever seen his father search for a key. Yes! Yes a half memory of reaching for the ink well stand. There it was, the small key under the ink pot. Killian opened the draw without hesitation pulling out the small leather bound portrait. Opening it up he ran his fingers over the familiar image and sighed. This wasn't exactly giving him anything he hadn't seen before. As he put the portrait back his fingers brushed cool metal. He pulled out the draw further. A large iron key sat tucked up against the back of the draw. Killian pulled it out trying to think what it could possibly open. He had spent too many hours with Liam and other friends playing "conceal and capture" in the manor for there to be a room he hadn't noticed, perhaps somewhere in the outhouses or the stables? Killian walked over to the tall study windows. Dark clouds were brooding in the distance. His musings and scrutiny of the grounds were interrupted by the bell indicating the serving of mid-afternoon tea for everyone.

Once again Mrs Bristol noticed Killian was unusually quiet as he sat at the kitchen table lost in his thoughts.

"Killian I have a lovely surprise for you," Mrs Bristol smiled warmly. "We have just heard from Mr Bradley while here on a delivery, that Liam sends word he is on his way home for shore leave. Now that's exciting news isn't it?"

Killian half smiled back "Yes it is. When is he coming?"

"Tomorrow I think."

She was taken back a little as the expected large dimpled smile failed to appear on Killian's face.

Killian took his leave from the warmth of the kitchen and said he would be in his room drawing. If he was going to be brave and adventurous to discover the door the key opened, he better do it soon before his big brother came home. He hated to contemplate what Liam would think of him if he were caught. Killian grabbed his thick wool coat as the weather was changing to a chill wind. Sneaking out a side entrance he headed over to the stables while the staff still supped their brew. After a fruitless search in there and several likely out buildings Killian gave up and made to go inside. He felt as guilty as a cat in the creamery for what he was doing, sensing he was betraying everyone's trust. He looked up at the darkening sky over the gardens and then it dawned on him, as he caught a glimpse of brick from under the lush climbers concealing the walls over in the meadow.

It was so obvious it was invisible. The 9 year old had known it all his life, but had never once considered exploring it properly. It had been made clear that he had no reason to concern himself with it, a wall that contained something Killian had always accepted as very out of bounds.

He bit his lip as he moved over to the wall hoping none of the staff had come into the garden and were occupied within the yards.

Killian slowly circled the enclosure, that he had done many a time pretending it was a fort or castle to be defended against dire dragons or pesky pirates but he had never really given thought about it's true contents. Finally after carefully searching its exterior, facing south towards the sea, he found a door hidden by a climber. Killian easily pulled it aside to find a stout looking lock, a lock that matched a stout key clutched in his nervous hand. He opened the door and slipped inside, carefully pulling the door behind him as he entered forbidden territory.

Not sure what to expect Killian exhaled loudly at the sight. He looked upon a well-kept garden with the soft colours of spring bulbs and pink flowering trees still bare of their leaves before him. Pure white daffodils and snowdrops flowered among mounds of decorative moss in clumps along a path. Resting a moment on the door behind him, Killian was drawn to the small dome shaped building at the end of the path, the sunlight shining off metal embossed with intricate botanic patterns. Once again a stout lock was seated in the elegant double metal doors. Once again the key opened a secret to Killian's curious and apprehensive gaze. He slowly opened the doors and stepped over the threshold as the fading afternoon sunlight revealed the dark interior's contents.

It hit him in the guts straight away, his widening blue eyes unable to look away from the exact same eyes staring down at him on the far wall. He let out a strangled "Mother" as he took in the life size portrait. Raven black hair framed her lovely face hanging down over her shoulders and bodice with slight curls, her lips captured in a half smile that Killian knew to resemble his own. She was painted in a blue dress with richly embroidered half sleeves, bodice and skirts, the colour painted to complement her piercing eyes with soft laughter lines in their corners. It was a formal portrait but also somehow expressed a touch of the carefree. Only when Killian got older would he recognise this as a woman allowing her true, passionate self, show through the formality of decorum.

Slowly his muscles began to ache at being rooted to the spot for so long as he stared mesmerised by his mother's image. Killian moved tentatively further into the chapel and began to explore the room a bit more. Rain had started to fall lightly outside and in the fading light he could see someone had been here and left flowers on an altar in recent times. There were a couple of low cushioned stools and a small simple bench. Candles and two braziers also adorned the room. Paintings hung round the room, some Killian recognised as the woman who was his mother, but dressed in a variety of exotic clothes he had never seen anyone wear in Ariston. Others he wasn't so sure of but were maybe portraits done by her. Paintings of flowers and animals like the ones in the house were also here hanging around her chapel as he circled it's walls eagerly taking in all the sights he could.

Killian reluctantly turned around as he heard the rain get heavier. He had lost track of time, so enthralled by seeing his mother in such beautiful detail was he and then he noticed the statue.

It, no _she_ was at the opposite side to the chapel inset in the brick wall, a small barely perceivable mound to the side of the plinth with a bunch of fresh flowers on it. He walked over to his mother's likeness. She was carved in a seated position her arms half opened as if in readiness for an embrace.

Reaching up on his tiptoes to stroke her perfect marble cheek Killian was half expecting the gesture to be returned, so life like was the statue. His heart ached with the want of that touch as if by shear will he could be received in his mother's open arms and held in a maternal embrace against her heart.

Killian let out a deep sigh and looked down at the writing on the plinth. He read the words of endearment through his wet lashes. Suddenly his body went rigid and he felt a cold creep into him that wasn't from the now steadily falling rain seeping into his coat.

It was there carved into the stone and beautifully gilded, the indelible gold numerals revealing the harsh truth of what he had not known for certain, but was starting to suspect. He traced the letters and numerals with a trembling hand, at last fully comprehending all those whispers, those pitying looks, the reason they never celebrated his birth date. His 9 year old brain coming to the only devastating conclusion it could. Killian fell to his hands and knees, his body wracked by the unavoidable truth before him, his innocent heart breaking.

 _He_ was the cause of his mother's death.


	9. Missing in Action

Liam stepped into the warm familiar kitchen of home greeting Mrs Bristol with a kiss on the check then a hug. He was glad to have made it here an afternoon earlier than anticipated and relatively dry before the pending rainstorm visible to the north.

"Liam this is a lovely surprise to have you home so soon, how did you manage it?"

A momentarily shadow passed over the eighteen year olds handsome features.

"The fleet has recalled all the ships that it can to the naval ports, our King is not long for this world I'm afraid. My captain has given me a few days shore leave while we await news."

Mrs Bristol frowned as the unwelcome tidings marred Liam's being home.

"Well I guess you best get settled then and enjoy the respite."

"Where's that little brother of mine?"

"He's up in his room, go on up and see him Liam he has been unusually quiet all day and you will cheer him up no doubt. I'll bring you up a hot brew and food."

Liam bounded into his brothers room clapping his hands and shouting "Little brother!" in glee. He was surprised to see it quiet and unoccupied. On the floor was some torn up paper with gilded lettering on it that Liam barely looked as he deduced there was no Killian to greet him.

After calling and searching the upstairs rooms and the communal rooms downstairs Liam sought out Mrs Bristol.

"I cannot find the little mischief maker anywhere in the house. Where is he?"

"He's not upstairs? It's not like him to leave the house without coming to me first."

They looked out the small kitchen windows as the rain began to fall in earnest.

After an half hour of searching Liam was getting truly concerned. The rain had become cold and heavier, the skies darkening with a coming storm. Several of the staff had helped search the manor thoroughly again and it was clear Killian wasn't indoors.

Liam and Mr Bristol started arranging a search of the immediate grounds with the staff and had sent the youngest off to get reinforcements as Mrs Bristol was getting anxious

"This is not like him at all, he has been quite sullen all day and yet he knew you were coming home Liam." She fretted.

Suddenly Liam remembered the torn scraps by the bed so went to retrieve them.

"Mrs Bristol what is this?" He asked bringing the scraps down to the kitchen.

"Why it's Sarah Pennington's birthday invite."

"They are close those two" Mr Bristol added as he donned his layers of waterproof clothing.

"Aiming high above his station already is he?" Liam said dryly at the prestige of the Pennington name.

Mrs Bristol gave a small smile at the quip "He went yesterday with Dr Williams to the party. He came home in good spirits, though like I say a little quieter today than usual. I don't know why he ripped this up. He loves this kind of artistry and penmanship."

Contingencies were made for a search of the coastal cliffs and estate in the darkening conditions, a sense of urgency settling in with the impending tempest. Once the search parties were organised and the signal fires set to recall them when Killian was found, the men headed off. Nobody wanted to think about what if the boy were laying injured somewhere unable to respond to them, a very real possibility on such large grounds and treacherous sea cliffs. Mrs Bristol and Alice her capable assistant, set about preparing the necessary hot foods in case the search took all night, both knowing the men would not give up until Killian was found.

Tobias cursed to be caught out in the rain as the borrowed horse plodded along the coastal roads towards home. He thought he could beat it but this was not his sure footed steed so he had to be patient with the slow pace. The sound of a horse and carriage rose over the patter of the rain.

"Why Tobias Jones, a bit inclement to be out taking in the scenery don't you think?" Nathaniel smiled at him in welcome from his small warm carriage.

Tobias smiled back at his good fortune and friend's timing. Once settled into the Doctors drier transportation with horse tethered behind them, the men caught up on news and gossip. Nathaniel had to attend to a woman with heart spasms and was on his way home. Tobias explained the gravity of the impeding King's death with still no named heir and hence his being in port at short notice.

They arrived at the estate in pouring rain and to a warm kitchen full of unexpected bustle and noise. Several neighbouring men and boys were in the courtyards with torches.

"Mrs Bristol, Mrs Bristol!" the captain called in his deep voice. "Are we preparing for an invasion?"

"Captain! Mercies I am so glad you are here."

"What's the meaning of all this?"

"It's Killian, Captain he's gone missing," she sat the captain and doctor down placing hot brews in front of them as she explained Liam's return and Killian's disappearance.

Tobias had immediately wanted to go out and search but Mrs Bristol said there were plenty of men out there with clear instructions from Liam what part they were each searching, so nobody else got lost in this foul night. It was best he save his energy if needed for reinforcement and be here with the doctor when they found the boy.

As a man of action and command it was hard to sit and do nothing so the men retired to the study out of Mrs Bristol and Alice's way. Nathaniel stoked the fire as Tobias sat heavily down on his desk chair. Letting out a sigh he went to unlock the draw with his wife's picture. He pulled and was puzzled to find what he thought was unlocked was locked. Trying once again he opened the draw pulling out her image. His heart heavy with fear as he sought comfort by staring at her image.

Mrs Bristol came in with some hot food and some scraps of paper on a tray.

"Dr Williams I was wondering was everything well at the Pennington party yesterday?"

"Yes it was a fine and elegant affair. Killian enjoyed himself immensely," he smiled ruefully.

"It's just Liam found this on Killian's bedroom floor," she handed over the torn invitation.

Nathaniel scrunched his forehead up in confusion unable to give an answer. "He was in high spirits all day Mrs Bristol, though a little worn out at the end of it."

His train of thought was interrupted as Tobias exclaimed searching the back of the draw "Where is Esmeralda's garden key Mrs Bristol, has someone borrowed it?"

"No sir we use the spare one, it's still hanging up in the key store." Mrs Bristol declared.

Suddenly Nathaniel snapped his head up "Oh, oh bloody hell."

"What Nate?"

"I think I know what this is all about. Oh Killian! I didn't think he had heard but some women were carelessly talking about you, Esmeralda and well...his birth …oh Tobias I think I know where he's got to."

Nobody would think to search within it because everyone knew Killian didn't know about it's purpose and nor was it a place he could get into with its securely locked door. But they shouldn't have been too surprised. He's always loved a challenge.

The two old friends and one of the young searchers headed across the lawns at pace. Tobias used the key to open the hidden garden door to find once again it locked when it should unlock. Finally inside, they headed through the pitch dark evening to the chapel, their torches barely casting enough light to see through the rain. The chapel doors were open wide to the elements. Frantically searching its interior there was no sign of Killian though it was certain he had been here.

Tobias looked up at his wife's painting "Oh Esmeralda what have I done?" he pleaded.

The men were defeated and puzzled "Could he have snuck back into the house?" Nathaniel asked as he looked at his stricken friend.

"Sirs over there!" the young helper cried out.

The men turned around to see where he was pointing. Barely visible, a small heap was curled up at the base of Tobias' belated wife's statue, the boy's black coat contrasting to the white marble.

"Killian, Killian!" Tobias rushed over and picked up his cold, soaked son off his wife's grave. "My boy Killian, answer me."

Slowly the boy opened his eyes in response to his father's desperate shaking and looked at the man that was the center to his young world, tears mingling with rain down his pale young face.

"I'm sorry ….I'm so sorry I killed her father," he whispered.


	10. Found

"Killian no..no," Tobias gasped holding his son tightly!

Nathaniel checked the limp child in his friend's arms. Relieved that Killian had been sensible enough to wear a sturdy wool coat he concluded that although thoroughly chilled, Killian was probably more overwrought than in immediate danger of a deadly lethargy.

"Tobi he is going to be fine, we just need to get him warmed up, come on let's get back to the house with him."

"Harold go light the signal fires, let everyone know he's been found," Nathaniel instructed their helper.

Liam looked down at his little brother as they warmed him up in front of the kitchen hearth. His heart wrenched at the sight of Killian's pale body, his face colourless and eyelids heavy.

He remembered suddenly when they were boys, Killian four and Liam thirteen. Some of the older neighbouring boys were over, ready to go adventuring and of course Killian wanted to play along with his big brother. Liam had harshly told him to go back to the house not wanting his baby sibling close to heel. There had been a pout, an attempt on small legs to keep up with the bigger lads and the inevitable stumble, grazed knees and crying.

One boy had simply, thoughtlessly said "Go run back to your mamma, cry baby and she'll kiss it better."

Liam froze as those words sunk in looking at a wailing Killian. He still had memories of his mother's touch, her comforting ways and gentle love in such moments of need. His brother would never know these things, never have a mother to kiss away pain or fear or smile at some small task proudly accomplished, as Liam had experienced for his first decade. He felt a fierce protectiveness of Killian in that moment, realising just how much his younger brother needed those things not just from a parent but his older brother as well. He gave his leave politely of his friends (one who was looking mortified at his thoughtless slip) and went to kneel down to comfort the lad. Killian's baleful blue eyes looked up at him, tears running down his cheeks as his lips trembled in pain. "It's alright little Killian" Liam wrapped him in his arms "I'm not going anywhere without you"

"Li….am," Killian buried himself in his brothers embrace "Li...am."

"I'm here Killian, I will always be here for you little brother."

Once again Liam found himself comforting his brother as they stripped him of his wet clothes in front of the roaring fire, whispering words of love and assurance to his sibling. Fortunately Liam had been returning to the courtyard from the cliffs when the signal fires were lit. Alice had fetched a wool nightshirt and socks from Killian's winter clothes chest while Mrs Bristol and Liam rubbed him down rigorously.

"He's shaking," Liam said concern contorting his features as he looked at Nathaniel.

"Yes that's a good sign, don't worry he's just chilled Liam, he hasn't got the lethal languor."

Tobias was finally stripping off his soaking outer garments over in the corner, watching with remorse as Killian was bundled up. Once free of his wet layers and boots he relieved Liam of Killian, taking him through to the quiet and warmth of the parlour, knowing soon there would be many cold and hungry searchers being attended to in their warm kitchen.

"Liam, pour us all a brandy lad, large ones," he asked as he carried Killian over to the fire.

"Will he truly be alright Nate?"

"Yes, yes he may be bed ridden for a few days, but he's a survivor is your Killian. Nathaniel thought briefly of the other times Killian had been sick with childhood fevers.

"Here you need to rest as much as he does Tobias. You've both had a nasty shock tonight I think." Liam and Nathaniel moved the large settee closer over to the fire and made Tobias and Killian comfortable, the seat easily accommodating both his tall frame and his young son.

"Liam will you thank everyone for us for helping in the search lad?"

"Of course father." Liam stroked Killian's head and took his leave to check on the searchers.

Once out of the room Tobias looked at Nathaniel who had positioned himself in a comfortable chair by the fire. There were few men the confident captain expressed his fears and insecurities to, Nathaniel was one of those select few and he often suspected that it was a mutual thing. Both had been bought up in families where duty, service and honour were paramount, leaving little room for open self-doubt or signs of weakness.

"I think I may have made a terrible judgement Nate in hiding the truth from my boy," he whispered kissing the top of Killian's head.

Tobi you did what you thought best. He is infernally curious and well he's a smart one is your Killian, he's put two pieces of a puzzle together sooner than we thought he could," the doctor said ruefully.

"I would have told him one day but he's just so young and…."

"And you wanted to protect him," Nathaniel said gently.

"Sometimes I think I made a mistake in not remarrying and giving the boys a mother."

"Your sons never seem to be lacking in affection or love," Nathaniel sighed "Plenty of children with both parents do you know. You have done Esmeralda proud Tobi. Liam is a fine man, a respected lieutenant and gentleman in every sense of the word. Killian is a charming, good natured lad. If anybody is to blame for tonight tis Mrs bloody blabbermouth Beetham!"


	11. Late Night Parley

The parlour fire caste warmth over the room that Tobias was finally feeling seeping into his bones. Killian lay sprawled half across his chest, wrapped in several wool blankets. Liam had been persuaded to go to bed about an hour ago with much reluctance; there was no need for anyone to be deprived of much needed sleep now Killian was safe. Nathaniel of course refused to leave, worried about them all and so had fallen asleep in his chair, a half finished brandy still in his hand.

Killian's squirming awoke Tobias from his dozing, opening his weary eyes to hooded half open sea blue ones. Killian bit his lip as he looked shyly up at his father.

Tobias smiled warmly and stroked his hair "Killian lad, come on up with you". His father's instinct recognising the boy's unspoken needs.

By the time they returned from the privy, Killian was shivering again so Tobias sat his son on his knees, wrapped him back up in his blankets, then held him tight against the warmth of his chest.

"How are you feeling my lad?" He asked softly in his deep fatherly voice.

Killian looked down and his lip protruded out in his typical way, a mannerism his father knew well, Killian's own built in emotional barometer.

"Are you very angry with me father?"

"You gave everyone quite a fright Killian," he felt his son stiffen "but no I am more worried about you than angry."

"Mother, She died when I was born," he stuttered.

"Aye son," Tobias took a deep breath "but not during birthing you. Your mother held you in her arms so proud and full of love for you she was Killian. She got the sleeping sickness like you sometimes see our ewes get after lambing," he gently explained.

Killian furrowed his brow as he thought through the familiar scenes of farm life, understanding his father's simplified explanation clearly.

"Why don't we celebrate my birth date like Sarah's parents do hers, are you too sad or angry to Father?"

"We follow the old traditions in this house lad, so as sea faring folk we can all have our celebrations together," he gently lifted Killian's chin up and smiled "And I celebrate every day the fact your mother gave me you Killian, don't you ever doubt that."

"She was very lovely wasn't she," her son quietly stated looking through those hooded eyes at Tobias.

"Yes she was, both in soul and in countenance. You have many of her traits Killian." Tobias said affectionately. "You have her love of music, her artistic flair and definitely her cheeky wit," he said aloud. He chuckled as he thought to himself " _Also her rather passionate, impulsive nature and her bloody moody temper."_ It always amazed him how one son was so like him and the other so alike in temperament to his mother he had never even known.

"Are you very sad she isn't here," Killian buried his head in his father's chest as he shyly asked.

"Aye I am sometimes, but I have Liam and you to remind me of all her good. I hope one day Killian you will know the bliss of being with someone whose soul makes yours feel whole whether it's only for a short time or your lifetime," he smiled wistfully.

"Can I go and see her portrait again father?" Killian asked hopefully before yawning, his exhausted body relaxing against his fathers.

"Of course lad! We all will as a family tomorrow," Tobias hugged his son. "Now sleep Killian," he lay Killian back down on the settee. "You've worn your old pa out tonight."

Tobias couldn't help but notice a sly smile cross a supposedly sleeping Nathaniel's face as he settled back to sleep, his youngest son safely tucked in by his side by the warm fire.

The family were early risers so as morning broke they were given a hearty breakfast in the parlour with Nathaniel. Having checked Killian over again, Nathaniel ordered the boy up to his now warm room for bed rest. As the men were saying their thanks and goodbyes for the day a horseman in a naval uniform came galloping into the courtyard. This was his fifth point of call this morning as he relayed his message throughout the district to navy personnel. The Good King was dead. Immediately the King's two nephews had declared themselves the rightful heir setting the royal court in turmoil.

Tobias never broke his promises to his sons but it was proving difficult to keep his word this day. The Jones household became a hive of activity as other near-by naval officers and other important personages from around the area sort the counsel of the high ranking Captain Jones. The implications were serious indeed and of course they wished to mourn together a sovereign who had bought peace and prosperity to their realm.

Fortunately for Tobias, Killian was bed ridden (in the good way) with Alice and Mrs Bristol insisting he stay tucked up and warm, doting on him when they could between tending to the visitors. Liam came in and sat with him often throughout the day when not needed in his father's study, reading a favourite story to Killian or telling him of the latest adventures at sea. Killian was tired and felt a bit sniffy but was really no worse for wear physically. He was still trying to deal with the brevity of the truth around his birth date, though everyone was keeping him occupied enough he didn't dwell on it.

It was late afternoon when he managed in between the two women's ministrations to sneak down in his warm dressing robe to see what all the visitors were about. He could see men talking seriously in his father's study through the open door. Killian knew well enough that he was not to interrupt his father when such gatherings occurred in the household. So he turned to go back up to bed when he suddenly noticed, his mother's portrait from the chapel had been hung over the reception area fireplace, opposite his father's study. He stood on the lower stairs staring at it in wonder; it was even more beautiful in the afternoon daylight. Eventually he realised he was still in full view of the study and its important visitors. Killian looked through the door as his father caught his eye and gave a loving, reassuring smile to his son before the captain had to turn his attention to answer the officer beside him.


	12. All the King's Men

It was nearing early summer and the Jones men had been coming and going at odd hours and sailing irregular intervals at sea since the Good King's demise. Often Killian would see strange, imposing men in his father's study or hear the hoofs of horses late at night. Tobias would now take Killian into Esmeralda's garden as part of his ritual if arriving home during daylight hours, pondering how much longer he would get to have these moments with his youngest son as tensions escalated in the kingdom.

The tension was palatable in the naval port and its good citizens of Ariston. Meanwhile the king's kin rallied their supporters and plotted their grasp for power, the two factions driving the realm into discord and civil unrest.

A couple of days earlier Tobias had come home from his latest naval mission to set things to order on the estate. Many of the neighbours were also making preparations. Some were sending away family to nearby realms, burying family heirlooms and closing up their estates to seek accommodation elsewhere away from the volatile strategic location of the second largest navy base in the realm.

The Penningtons and Higgins had already gone to their northern estates. After what Tobias had witnessed at Port Regal while attending the late king's funeral procession he couldn't blame people for wanting to find safer residences away from turmoil. Tobias tried to keep a sense of normality among his staff and inner circle but took the necessary precautions as well and making sure any staff that needed to be elsewhere could take their leave.

Sensing another looming date of a much more domestic nature, he asked Killian whether he wanted anything in particular for his birth date. It was the first time such a question had been asked and Killian was unsure what to request for his tenth year celebration, stunned his father had even mentioned it.

"I don't have to wait for mid-winter?" he raised his eyebrow in query.

"We'll still celebrate at mid-winter when Liam is here Killian (hopefully) but would you like something on the actual day?"

"Can I put some flowers on Mother's grave?" the boy had then simply replied "And can some of my friends come over for some afternoon tea?" he asked hopefully. The ones actually still left in Ariston whose families were not tied to naval duty were dwindling fast. Tobias sensed Killian was missing his friends Sarah and Ross terribly.

Tobias smiled and maybe only just held back an unexpected tear with the proper bearing of a naval sea captain, at his son's earnest request. The tenth year after all was a major celebration by this realm's traditions but with the present unrest something more subdued was understandable.

"Of course lad and how about I take you on my ship with me for a few weeks. I am expected at the admiralty by mid-summer and you should see Port Regal and all her magnificence. Liam should be there in port on the Triumphant too." (Hopefully)

Killian beamed up with his dimpled grin at his father given the promise of an unexpected adventure at sea. It would be a happy birth date indeed.

Tobias had his orders from the Admiralty and sincerely hoped he never had the need to execute some of the contingency plans that had been put in place by his superiors. As it was the Jones family at least managed to undertake half of Killian's birth date plans before the world around them burnt to ashes.

The King's younger nephew made his move swiftly. For too long the navy had been the dominating military power in the realm. He had curried favour with the more ambitious officers of the Royal Militia who weren't so keen to see another monarch of the same ilk come to power. The younger nephew set into action a series of devastating blows to his opponent, whose popularity and strong support by the navy rankled with these power seeking noblemen. The sudden death "by accident" of several high ranking naval officers including the Lord High Admiral "dying in his sleep" had the navy in uproar. It smelt of assassination and black magic and it most certainly was.

The sudden and unlawful arrest of high ranking officers at Port Regal known to openly support his rival left no doubt what this nephew's intentions were. But it was the devastating and precise blow to the southern provinces that set civil war into action.

So habituated with threats to the realm coming from the sea, the navy were unable to defend against an army of mercenaries and dissenters, sweeping through the southern provinces overland from the inland mountains. Their orders were simple. Sack Ariston and the other smaller naval bases along the southern coast and any civilian populations that were stupid enough to defy them. It was cynical, brutal and an absolute military tactical success.

The former King's older nephew, who many noble families thought of as the "Rightful King" was amassing his army of loyal militia and citizen soldiers in the north. He had fortunately requested many of the naval ships to gather at Port Regal before the sacking of the south started. So although he had lost the advantage, he was able to flee with most of the fleet, as the purging began in earnest of his supporters.

So it came to be, the day after Killian's birth date; A civil war between the supporters of the "Usurper King" and the "Rightful King" began and the Jones family were never to be the same again.

It was early evening. Killian was fed and about to prepare for bed when his father came into the room. "Killian my boy, it is time you and I go sailing my lad."

They had prepared him for this day a few weeks ago. His travel sack was packed and ready and his father gently reminded him each day that they may have to go at short notice if the tides were right and the admiralty requested his immediate presence.

Hence the absence of all the staff but Mr and Mrs Bristol, it was explained to him "Since there won't be much to do, with us not here to look after."

Killian could feel something was different with the late night visits increasing to the estate and staff and friends bidding their farewells for a "long overdue visit to family" elsewhere. When he emerged into the kitchen a half hour later he knew something was terribly wrong. Mr and Mrs Bristol hugged him fiercely and whispered loving words to him. Dr and Mrs Williams were there to say their heartfelt goodbyes and left with the family in a procession of carriages and carts. Killian didn't notice the Bristols were leaving with them, all their faces grim and anxious as they fled into the dark. Nor did his father let him look back to the town down the coast as the first flames cast the glow of destruction into the night sky. Tobias was thankful Killian's cloak hood would obscure his view as the obliteration of the world they had known commenced to the south of them.

Tobias took him as quickly as he dare down the coast cliff path by torchlight. At the end of the path was a small, well provisioned sail boat, tied to the jetty at the end of the beach, partially hidden by a rock outcrop and their most certain chance of escape.

Killian was surprised they hadn't headed to the port and his father's naval ship.

His sea blue eyes wide in surprise, he had managed a perplex "Father what's going on?"

 _All the bloody hells are breaking loose boy"_ Tobias thought "My son I think it is time you and I sail the realms together. How often have you spoken of those far off places you'd like to see lad, now's a good time as any, to set off for them."

He was trying to keep his voice light but his eyes were grave and his jaw had a tell-tale tick Killian could see in the torchlight. He had learnt it meant his father was deeply worried about something.

"But don't we have to go to the admiralty father; won't they be expecting your ship?"

"In good time Killian, we can have a few days sailing and adventuring then met the ship further up the coast, now grab that line and help me hoist the sail dear boy."

Keeping Killian occupied with the task of sailing, Tobias led them north hugging the coast. Tobias was familiar enough with this coastline to risk such a dangerous night time journey, it hadn't been his first choice of escape route but now it was the only one and with favourable winds they were making good progress. It had happened so fast and without warning. How had the port succumbed so quickly, he couldn't fathom it? Was black magic involved? He wouldn't put it past the brutal younger nephew to use such bad form. Killian was soon tired out so Tobias let him curl up in the bow to sleep. He wasn't fooling the boy he knew that, but he couldn't tell Killian the whole truth either. Looking at last behind him, his heart broke as he saw the bright orange glow on the cliffs in the distance that could only be the Jones family estate turning to fiery ruins. At least for the time being Killian and he were together and safe. He only hoped Liam was somewhere safe too.


	13. Tricks for Travelling

Nobody paid much attention to the dark haired boy sitting on bales of wool at the wharf, a small sail boat moored beside him. The boy on the other hand noticed everything he could, discretely watching the activity through his now long fringe; not having to endure Mrs Bristol's regular haircuts was proving advantageous in some respects.

He watched warily as a small group of local militia sauntered down towards the newly arrived row boat whose occupants were disembarking almost opposite him. They had come from the small vessel he could see anchored out in the harbour. Men were being carefully helped out of the boat and onto the jetty stairs, men of varying mobility Killian observed. Bloodied bandages and wounds were obvious on most as the subdued crowd waited for the stragglers to disembark and then helped carry one of their comrades, who was stretcher bound, up onto the wharf. He felt his eyes drawn to the shirtless man clutching a dirty bandaged stump to his chest. Killian couldn't help but stare at where the missing hand should be as his curiosity and gory fascination got the better of him, imagining all sorts of scenarios for its loss. The crippled man suddenly noticed the boy's unabashed gaze and turned away in shame, head bowed low as he followed his comrades in a slow shuffle towards the fishing village.

Killian realised he was being rude and looked down with red cheeks and a small shudder. To lose a hand would be horrible. What could anyone possibly be but condemned to a life of charity and begging? There'd be no playing the mandolin, no sailing, no sword fighting and most definitely no dashing rescues of princesses.

He finally looked up again and noticed one of the militia watching him, a dark haired man who started to walk slowly over to Killian's position on the bales. The youngster stood up and as casually as his nervousness allowed, rested his hand on his cutlass.

"Good morning sir," He said shyly.

"Good morning lad and who might you be?" So it began.

Tobias walked out of the dim tavern into the clear blue afternoon. The air was getting crisp with autumn approaching and the world seemed deceptively peaceful, as he walked along the fishing village waterfront down to the wharf. He felt both relieved and saddened by the various pieces of information the agent he had just met with was able to divulge to him. Scratching his now shaggy beard, he thought about his ship the Cormorant and her loyal crew. The Admiralty's ruse had thankfully worked. As planned the enemy assumed Tobias was captaining his ship which had escaped Ariston's destruction and were unaware it was his first mate Lieutenant Grayson sailing her out on the high seas. This left Tobias free to head north on his mission. As long as the ruse held, the Usurper King's agents would not be looking for a senior naval captain or his young son along the coastal ports, allowing them to travel in relative safety. To hear most of the Royal Navy was fighting on the Rightful King's side and only minor casualties had been inflicted at Port Regal gave him hope for Liam and the crew on the Triumphant. The extent of the damage to the southern provinces and the treachery that had bought about its capitulation had been of course, hard news to hear, but it made the senior Jones more determined to succeed in his orders to help bring down the damn usurper and his vile supporters.

Striding onto the wharf Tobias snapped out of his reverie as he viewed the scene down by his boat and felt his blood freeze. He could make out some militia crowded around the jetty he had departed alone from at mid-morning (after all clandestine tavern meetings were no place for a boy). He could see Killian with his sword drawn, sparring with one of the men. Fighting every instinct to go charging down to the group brandishing his own sword, Tobias took a deep breath, checked his wrist dagger was in place and feigned a limp. He walked as casually as he could down to them, the rapid beat of his heart at odds with the calm demeanour he had on his face.

As Tobias got closer he could see Killian was deep in concentration but didn't seem to be fighting for his life, _yet!_

" _Let's hope I can keep it that way_ ," he grimly thought.

"Gentlemen," Tobias said in a rougher speech than his normal lilt "What tales my son be telling ye now? Be he a prince, a pirate or a knight on a dragon quest?"

The men laughed helping Tobias to relax as he could discern no immediate menace from the group.

"Your lad here say he be on a quest to explore the realm."

Killian and the man he had been sparring with had lowered their swords and looked towards Tobias.

"Aye well much more exciting prospect than we be sailing to Ardmore to visit his great aunt who's suffering from a bad case of gout." More laughter came from the men but Tobias was too experienced in combat to let his guard down as he moved over to Killian.

"Your son is a fine young swordsman," the leader commented as he sheathed his sword, Killian copying him.

Tobias grabbed Killian's wrist before he could raise it in his tale tell sign of nervousness behind his ear.

"Aye he be taught by an old friend of mine who was something of a fine swordsman in his day," he said with a hint of fatherly pride.

"And yourself good sir, what be your business?"

"I be a retired naval sea captain," half-truths were always better than lies. Tobias lifted up his shirt on his right side.

"On account of me running into a smuggler who took exception to my confiscating his brandy haul and he gave me this and a nice leg wound to make his point."

He hoped nobody here had seen an appendix scar before, few ever survived such an ordeal to live to bear the scar, but few had Dr Williams and his skills to tend to them with such a surgery. Even then it had been a close thing.

The men nodded in sympathy as they viewed the ragged long scar accepting it's implication in forcing an early retirement from a sea captain's career.

"And you young man, will you follow in your father's footsteps?"

"I might like to become a captain of the militia" Killian grinned, all dimpled charm and boyish adoration for the group.

"Well lad in a few years when you're a bit taller, maybe you will have that honour. Our King has need of a fine swordsman like you." Tobias didn't flinch at the mention of "Our King" curse the filthy cur, and Killian simply nodded eagerly at the leader's compliment.

After a few more words of no consequence the militia left. Tobias sighed heavily with relief looking at his son.

"What did you tell them Killian?"

"What you had told me to father, but he noticed my cutlass and well we ended up sparring. I think they were bored and he misses his son, said I reminded him of his boy."

Killian's hand had gone to his ear again as he looked up sheepishly at his father.

Tobias nodded and took Killian's hand "You're a resourceful lad son."

He smiled then turned serious. "This tell you have, when you are nervous, it took me years to master it myself but you need to learn not to do it, especially in front of a potential enemy. Only in front of people you totally trust can you be such an open book Killian. Enemies always look for a weakness and a tell is a good way to let them know when you are your most vulnerable."

Killian frowned a bit but he understood what his father was trying to teach him, dropping his hand self-consciously to his side.

Once under sail again Tobias watched his young Killian with the re-occurring turmoil he had often felt these last few months. He had been torn about whether he should have left the boy with the Williams or got him somewhere safe. But Tobias had seen civil war as a young officer, before their Good King came into his rule. War with a common enemy from another land was something to unite against. Civil war pitted brother against brother and neighbour against neighbour. Nobody could be trusted, especially when loved ones could be threatened and used to gain control or betray you. There were those in Ariston Tobias was certain wouldn't hesitate to betray any remaining navy officers and their families to the enemy, either for profit or to gain favour with the new (hopefully temporary) regime. There was simply nowhere truly safe in times such as these.

So far Killian had adapted reasonably well to their new life over the last few summer months. There had been a few temper tantrums and sulks usually when sailing long days and he was getting exhausted. Tobias tried to be patient or reminded himself Killian was barely 10 and had lived a relatively sheltered life. Well maybe the youngster had been a bit indulged and spoilt at times too, if he was being totally honest.

Sometimes Tobias had to resort to his brusque captains bearing when his son was being overly petulant. At least when Killian's mother had those moods the boy seemed to have inherited, Tobias could retreat to the other end of the manor, but on a small sailing boat he just had to ride it out with his son.

Killian was quick at picking up on what his father required of him, what to say, what not to say and how not to draw attention to himself when they called into the various ports. Tobias scratched his beard, he was telling his lad half-truths again and it wouldn't be long before Killian worked out they were actively avoiding certain types of people and were more fugitives than travellers of the realm. Hopefully they would be in northern and friendlier waters soon before that realisation hit.

But they weren't.


	14. No More Tricks for Travelling

The autumn was waning and the chill of winter was in the air. Maybe it was the cold seeping into his bones and being on the edge of exhaustion that led Tobias to misread the atmosphere of the town. He was a captain that could sense a change in the sea or his crew in an instant, always keenly aware of pending belligerence or tempests. But he just didn't see trouble brewing until too late. The change in people from welcoming travellers to treating everyone with suspicion was only natural. But open hostility towards strangers was something the sea captain hadn't expected to see so soon into the civil war, especially in a seaside town that partially depended on strangers for their livelihood.

His contact hadn't shown up and Tobias was starting to get worried. Then he saw the three men approach Killian over by the chandlery merchant. He slowly donned his travel sack and stood up, ready to intervene if need be.

" _Oh bloody hell_ " he thought as he saw the flash of a knife and started running towards them, there was no time for feigned limps or pretence this time.

Killian was keeping to himself in the ally opposite the tavern his father was sitting outside of. The captain was seemingly paying no attention though Killian knew he was discretely watching and waiting to meet someone. Killian looked around at the town, thinking they were all much of a muchness from the many he had seen over the months. The ever changing coastline and the ever changing sea was what held his interest during his travels, rather than these settlements.

He saw a man give him a quizzical look then walked past to meet a comrade. They both looked at Killian again then at the wall of the chandlery next to the ally. Killian frowned and bit his lip. Something about their look unsettled him. They moved down the street, allowing Killian to sidle over to the wall to see what had caught their curiosity. There were royal posts and general public decrees attached to the wooden wall. Killian scanned them quickly when his eyes alighted on one in particular. Quickly he snatched it down starring at it hard.

"Hey you there!" he heard a shout behind him and twisted his head around to see the two men with a soldier coming towards him. He stuffed the post into his tunic, before he turned to face them and forced an innocent grin across his face.

"What's your business here lad?" the soldier asked.

Killian placed his hand beside his thigh, drumming his fingers, his conscious substitute for scratching behind his ear. Before he could answer one of the men roared "He's taken down the post, that be a crime against our King, boy!"

Suddenly the youngster was staring at two knives pointed at him making him reflectively step back and unsheathe his cutlass. Killian was no match for the three men but his sword was enough to make them hesitate. He saw his father pounding towards him out the corner of his eye but didn't take his eyes off the men as his hours of sword drill automatically came to him. Tobias used his long legs to their full capacity quickly putting himself between his son and the men, his sword also unsheathed.

"I'd think twice before you decide to rob the boy," he barked.

"Oh we not be robbing the brat but we will profit well today I think," one of the men sneered.

Tobias looked momentarily confused then he heard horse hoofs. Militia were arriving and not the homely sort he had encountered at most small fishing villages. These were professionals judging by their attire. Not one to waste time Tobias quickly thrust his sword at the men, neatly dispatched their weapons and knocked them hard to the ground with an elbow or fist to their faces for good measure, for daring to raise a knife against his son.

He could see four horse mounted militia bearing fast towards him and Killian so he pushed his son away from the stunned men and back towards the ally way. Grabbing Killian's hand he led him down through the labyrinth that was the backstreets of the town

"Run son, run like Mr McBeth is after your hide."

An hour later two figures lurked behind some barrels, watching as the militia milled around a nondescript sail boat berthed at the small wharf. Tobias let loose a string of his best sailor curses under his breath. Well that escape route was out of the question. He noted several horses tethered up by the low sea wall close by with two of the militia looking distracted. He assessed their bearing. They were young men, probably not truly battle hardened yet. He could overcome them easily enough.

Tobias made it a rule never to start a fight he couldn't walk away from so without ceremony he strode up to the two young men and simply set about disarming and incapacitating them as quickly as he could. It wasn't a quiet affair and soon nearby dock workers and the militia came running towards Tobias and Killian.

Panting hard from his short scuffle Tobias checked Killian was still behind him.

"Son, get up on that horse _now_!" he shouted.

Killian didn't waste time and grabbed the nearest horse's reins. It took him several attempts to get up on the tall steed but at last he managed it. He went to grab the other horse's reins as it shied away from the men running and shouting towards them.

"No you don't you little traitor!" one of the dock men lunged at Killian cutting the boy's shoulder as the boy reached over for the second steed's reins.

Hearing his son's cry of pain Tobias swung around and under the horses head, slashing at the man with his sword without hesitation. Mounting the second steed as quickly as possible he circled around and charged the approaching soldiers, who had the sense to pull back and await the mounted re-enforcements seen in the distance and coming at speed down the road.

Tobias gave them a look of contempt then turned the horse back around, quickly grabbed Killian's reins and took off in the opposite direction. It only took a few minutes to clear the docks and the sensible thing would be to gallop down the road as fast as one could out of the town.

But the cunning thing to do was to veer down a side street and backtrack, especially if the enemy didn't have a clear line of sight of your retreating backside.

Tobias was breathing hard as he desperately checked on his son, daring to slow down for just a moment behind an outer wall of the town, hopefully opposite to where the militia were now searching for them.

"Are you badly hurt Killian?"

The boy shook his head no. Tobias puffed in relief noticing his son also trying to catch his breath.

" _I guess the ruse on the Cormorant is up_." he thought about the militia's sudden interest in Killian and himself.

Tobias would not steal from ordinary folk as you never knew what the consequences could be for people who already had so little. But he had no qualms about taking two of the militia's horses and making good their escape.

"Do you think you can outride me like we use to do over the far paddock at home Killian?"

Killian nodded as Tobias handed him his reins and quickly adjusted the boy's stirrups. He led them first at an almost unbearable leisurely pace along one of the town's lesser roads, not wanting to draw attention to how desperate he wanted to get away from the place. Once past the edge of town Tobias set a speed suitable for Killian, who was mounted on an unfamiliar and larger steed than he was used to. They headed into the forested hinterland where Tobias hoped they could lose their pursuers and find a safe haven.

When at last the captain deemed it safe to rest the horses and let them drink from a stream, Tobias attended to his subdued son, fearing the wound had been more serious than Killian had let on.

"Killian you are bleeding. Here let me bind it. That was close…"

But Killian angrily shrugged away from Tobias and stood his ground several yards away from his father. His face had a sour expression; his blue eyes held an uncharacteristic hardness as he glared at Tobias. The knife had sliced the top of Kilian's arm. He was in pain and shock, so took it out on the only person he could.

"Father!" he said in a clipped, precise tone with no warmth at all, completely ignoring the wound in his anger.

"Yes son?"

"You know how you taught me it's wrong to steal?"

"Um.. yes."

"And to brawl is dishonourable."

"Yes"

"And to always be loyal to the King and respect the King's men,"

"Yes Killian," Tobias dreaded where this was going.

"Why are we doing everything opposite to what you taught me Father?" Killian's head tilted sideways, lips pressed together in contempt.

"Well Killian those men are the King's men but not the Rightful King, they are corrupt and bad men."

"But Father," and Killian threw down the wanted post that had started all this "This says we…we are the bad… men!" he spat his words, eyes full of challenge to Tobias.

He had never before dared questioned his father's actions and more profoundly his father's honour. But Killian was hurt, tired and very angry as he sensed something amiss.

"So this is what made those men confront you lad, this could be anyone, certainly not a good likeness of us." Sometimes half -truths are not the best but the only option.

Killian raised an eyebrow at his father, obviously not accepting Tobias' word. After all, his father had hidden the full facts from him before, as Killian's thoughts strayed to the circumstances around his birthing. The captain sensing Killian's turmoil tried tacking another safer course away from where this was potentially heading.

"We are loyal to the King, Killian, just not the king that issued this want post."

Killian practically sneered "How do I know that isn't just another lie to hide the truth we're...we're villians?" He struggled to define what he wanted to say, resorting to a term he was familiar with from the numerous stories he loved to read.

Tobias chose his next words carefully using all his skills as a captain to remain in control of his fast escalating emotions, unused to anyone questioning his authority and judgement, particularly his child.

"Because if it is a lie then all those that you love Killian; your brother, the Bristols, the Williams and the Higgins, they are all condemned as am I, in your thinking we are _villians._

Son I know this must seem confusing but well sometimes the good people are deemed the enemy and the enemy are deemed the righteous. It is the way of an unjust world."

Killian pouted and didn't relax his angry stance.

"Good people have a duty to fight against tyranny and injustice Killian, even if those that seek to supress them accuse them of being criminals for doing so," Tobias tried to explain.

"But isn't that like mutiny, haven't you always said mutiny was the most unforgivable crime?"

" _Perceptive as ever you little rapscallion,_ " Tobias sighed. He couldn't argue with his son on that point.

"Aye Killian but we haven't endangered a crew or a vessel by taking command without earning it. A captain gains his rank by proving his qualities and leadership amongst his men and his superiors. The man who steals a kingship and pretends to be that realms lawful ruler is no better than a pirate taking a ship and pretending to be an honourable captain when he's naught but a thief."

Killian thought about his father's words, still feeling confused. But perhaps it was easier to accept this explanation than the deep down feeling of an unthinkable notion; that his father would put duty before everything, even his own son, to ensure the rightful order of the realm was restored no matter the cost.

Tobias suddenly realised his son was no longer a boy but on the cusp of becoming a young man, one that had been plunged into a conflict that demanded an adult attitude, but his boy still retained a child-like innocence towards life. Killian was starting to question the world he lived in and it's often contradictory ways as he saw more of its darker realities.

Tobias moved closer to Killian and gently pulled him into his arms. The boy didn't resist his father's embrace.

"Now my lad it's time I look at that arm and we make a plan. How about we head up into the mountain provinces?" I don't think you have ever seen snow quite like they get in the mountains."


	15. Elevenses

Elevenses

Skulking about in the pre-dawn gloom at the docks, Tobias suddenly saw a sight to warm his cold and weary heart at Sanctuary Cove. It was a two mast sloop, a coastal trader called Seafoam, hopefully still at the command of a former boatswain, who had served under Tobias before Killian was born. Maybe he could get berth on that and double back south to where he knew an agent was waiting, ready to receive the information of the "Usurper King's" military weaknesses.

Carefully he urged Killian forward to crouch down behind some cargo. As usual the boy didn't complain and did his father's bidding. He had turned out to be quite the canny little survivor during their ordeals across the realm. After one too many close calls as they journeyed north through the ports, instinct had driven the captain deep inland away from the coast. The Usurper King's men would not be so likely to search for a naval officer among the mountain provinces. So far that theory had proved advantageous. But now he had pressing business to meet with contacts at a southern port, so once again duty had called him back to the coast.

In some ways Killian _was_ getting to see parts of this realm and the bordering ones, though it was far from the ideal Tobias had envisaged of travelling with his youngest. Although it hurt Tobias deeply to see his son suffer such deprivation and be exposed to the brutality of life's less enchanting realities while they stayed one step ahead of the enemy, he was glad to have Killian beside him, though safe was a relative term depending on the day.

The captain still had no knowledge of where his Liam was as this infernal civil war tore the realm apart or even if he were still alive and in one piece. Tobias had been able to successfully help establish and strengthen the Rightful King's network of spies, loyalists and militia over the last year, setting into motion the contingency plans for an end to the damn war. At least Tobias knew the Cormorant, Triumphant and most of the navy were still fighting fit on the Rightful King's side and were now slowly pressing their advantage south.

It had been a gambit that the Admiralty had taken; to temporarily land one of its senior naval officers in a mission to further the Royal Navy's cause and secure allies throughout the farthest reaches of the realm. It had proved a valid tactic in its execution. Their acceptance and confidence in a high ranking naval officer with a reputation for honour and loyalty helped bridge many barriers of mistrust during such dark days and opened many a firmly barricaded door to the Rightful King's cause.

"Ahoy there," Tobias tentatively called out "Ahoy! May I speak to your captain, sailor?"

"Who be asking?" the crewman asked suspiciously.

"An old seadog and friend of Captain Teal, tell him it be Captain Strictknickers," he said with a straight face. He was aware of what his nickname had been by some of the many men under his command, though they would have been mortified to learn he actually knew of it.

Soon the captain of the vessel came up on deck with a lantern.

"You say you be Captain Strictknickers?" disbelief in his voice.

"Aye Teal, you remember me with some kindness I hope?"

Captain Joseph Teal knew these were treacherous times so took his time assessing the man before him in the dim light.

At last he exclaimed "Captain! Why I am glad to see you in the flesh sir."

"Please just call me Tobias. We are on equal footing here I think," Tobias grinned.

"Aye Cap... Tobias. Why I hear tell you are a fugitive from the Usurper King," he whispered.

"Aye they seek to imprison me and many of the high ranking naval command for crimes against the realm." Jones raised his eyebrow in sardonic disbelief.

Captain Teal held out his hand in welcome, the kindness gesture Tobias had seen for many months.

"Please! Come aboard before one of their cursed wharf rats spots you standing out here."

"You would risk your men and ship for me?"

"Aye and my life Tobias." Teal nodded sincerely towards his former favourite naval officer.

"Thank you Joseph. I have my lad with me too, young Killian."

He signaled for Killian to come over. Teal took in the slight, dark haired youth coming quietly towards him, head down, dark shoulder length hair hiding his features. He had met the Captain's wife when on shore leave at Ariston a few times and had known young Liam around this age. He had never seen the youngest boy, having left the Royal Navy before this addition to the Jones family had been born. Teal had caught up with the Captain at various ports in his earlier days of his new civilian life and so had learnt of both the Captain's joy of this son's arrival and sadness of his wife's death.

Soon they were all settled in the small, warm captain's cabin. Teal ordered the crew to double the watch and requested some obviously much needed left over stew for his former captain and son. The two old shipmates then caught up on the goings on of the civil war and the last ten years. Teal had done well for himself, his wife and family of four children, with a thriving coastal shipping enterprise to support them.

Tobias asked if they were heading south which fortunately they were and was offered a berth immediately. As they reminisced Teal marked that the once immaculate and distinguished Tobias looked the worst for wear (as did quite a few of the realm's subjects these days) one step ahead of starvation with exhaustion noticeable across his once handsome features.

The war had bought many shortages of the necessities of life. At least at sea, men could fish for their supper and have a steady supply of sustenance unlike the landlubbers who had faced a bitter winter of food shortages and destroyed crops.

The captain's quiet son sat unobtrusively in the corner, savouring his stew, all the while his head downcast, not at all like the gregarious, jovial older brother Teal had met all those years ago. Soon the early morning high tide was turning so Teal left his former captain to catch up on much needed sleep in the cabin while the crew prepared to leave Sanctuary Cove and head for the open seas.

The weather was benign as they sailed south and Tobias was happy to bed down under a canvas awning on the deck with Killian. It had been a welcome reprieve from the constant travelling on land and a chance for both to rest and to eat regular meals. Tobias offered to help with crewing but Teal said it was best to be seen as an old acquaintance paying for passage by his loyal Seafoam crew.

The less they knew of the duo's identity the better for everyone. It would be Killian's birthing date soon judging by the stars and seasonal change. Tobias wondered where they would be when the date arrived and it reminded him that it had been nearly a year since Ariston fell, though it felt many lifetimes ago.

Tobias used the respite to teach Killian some more captaincy skills. The family sextant was one last link to their now thoroughly ruined past. He took great pleasure in seeing how his young boy was becoming adept at navigation with the Jones heirloom being competently used in his almost eleven year old hands. And since they were in coastal waters he helped Killian practice his sounding and charting skills with the ship's sounding line and plummet. Killian slowly became less shy and more open around the crew as he "helped" them navigate through the coastal waters. He was often seen beside one crew member or another tasked with catching fish for the meals.

Thus the fugitives had a relatively peaceful week doing what seafaring fathers and sons do best; enjoying each other's company with salt on their skin and the ocean currents taking them on to their next adventure.


	16. In the Middle of the Night

It was a foggy, bitter cold morning. Teal had insisted Killian sleep in the warmth of his cabin while he was on the early watch, leading Tobias down into the room with the half sleeping lad, gently placing him in the captain's bunk.

This was the most dangerous time at sea with an in running tide close to shore and Poseidon knows who out hunting on the waters for easy booty, before sunrise took away the advantage of surprise. The two captains were sharing stories of their past, rugged up against the bitter fog, sharing the watch in a convivial mood. Suddenly a shadow appeared on the port side. The fog was still thick and immediately both men were on edge. It could be anything or nothing, a mere trick of the gloom.

Soon the shadow was sailing alongside them. Glimpses through the fog revealed a corsair ship by the looks, flying the "royal" flag with militia lined along the railing eagerly scrutinising the smaller ship.

Both experienced captains knew instantly what that meant.

"Damn them, they mean to board," Teal whispered "We need to get you off now Tobias!"

"I must go get Killian," Tobias stated quietly and firmly, heading for the cabin.

Teal grabbed him by the arm and looked him straight in the eye.

"No! There's no time," they heard the commands to grapple the vessel.

"They will see you going down to the cabin," Teal whispered. Fortunately Tobias and Teal were on the starboard side bow hidden from view.

"Joseph I can't just leave him down there!"

"Tobias if they find you _and_ him they will put two and two together who you are, we have to get you overboard now. You are only a couple of furlongs from shore. You can make it to land under the cover of the fog in our small skiff and we can try and pick you up later."

"But my son, I can't just abandon him to those damn curs!" Tobias looked over to the ship as they heard the first grapples land.

"Too many lives depend on you not getting caught Tobias. You know how they will use him to get the information they want if they find you both on board. Tobias even _you_ wouldn't be able to resist spilling your secretes if they torture the lad in front of you and you know they won't hesitate to do it, curse them."

Tobias' face was full of the agony he felt in his heart but his head and military experience knew Teal was right. Reluctantly he shook his head in understanding.

"Quick is there anything downstairs of yours to give away your being on board?" Teal pulled him to the section of the railing where a very small skiff was lashed to the side.

"The sextant, but it could be any ones. My travel sack is here. He'd grabbed his as always neatly packed, ready to escape travel sack from his makeshift bed grabbing the two sleeping mats.

"Good. What about Killian's?"

"It's hanging up on the back of the door of your cabin but nothing in it would identify him as my son."

"Good. Don't worry the crew won't talk and I'll look after Killian till we can get to you."

Tobias was too much a realist to leave that to chance, especially under current circumstances.

"If you can't Joseph, try and get him to Liam wherever he is. Promise me you will try," he begged grasping Teal's wrist and staring hard at him.

In that moment Joseph realised Tobias thought it was unlikely they would meet again. He was leaving his most loved treasure, his son, to fate, kindness and the cunning of an old navy comrade.

"I promise Tobias. He will be looked after. We'll meet again soon and good luck in the meantime Captain,"

Joseph said sincerely hoping his optimism came through for the distraught captain.

They heard the clunk of more grapples and orders for the Seafoam watch to prepare for boarding. Using the noise to cover the lowering of the skiff, Tobias placed the sleeping mats, travel sack and himself into the small boat.

As he helped lower the naval captain down into the fog and uncertainty Joseph heard the harsh orders to board his vessel then barked his own for his men to stand ready.


	17. Question Time

**A/N** Thanks for the follows and favorites - it is very encouraging for me as a first time writer. I've enjoyed getting this out there (hopefully before it becomes AU with the impending S5)

I'm not sure on the T versus M rating on upcoming chapters so have gone M. Nothing will be too explicit. There's an increase in swearing and themes of war/life at sea/life in port (ahem) as Killian continues to grow up.

I don't own the characters of OUAT but I'm enjoying dipping my toe in the Enchanted Seas.

Killian had heard the heightened activity in the emerging dawn but in his sleepiness had dismissed it as normal shipboard routine. That was until he was rudely awakened and rough handled up to the deck. He quickly took in all he could. The crew stood surrounded by heavily armed men with eyes downcast and Captain Teal was separated from the crew. Beside him stood two rather imposing men, obviously the ones currently in command asking him questions he didn't dare evade.

One of the two stood tall and relaxed, clothed in rich colours, his embroidered jacket and trousers contrasting to the other man who stood in typical military stance and in attire that Killian instantly recognised with fear; the regalia of the dark shadow that had dogged his father and him for the last year. These were the Usurper King's Henchmen, the "Royal Militia". He kept his eyes down as he was pushed over to the trio, all three adults looking intently at him, one with fear, two out of curiosity.

 _Where_ was his father?

After a while the richly clothed man came up to Killian looking at the boy with interest.

"Your ship is a tad small to warrant a cabin boy Captain Teal," he said with suspicion lacing his voice. "Hmm and such a fine looking lad as well."

Killian didn't dare stare at the man directly. Father and he had nearly been apprehended due to their countenance. The wanted posts for " _A distinguished man of military bearing travelling with a son of striking blue eyes and dark hair,_ " almost leading to their capture more than once. Killian rarely looked people in the eye these days.

 _Father where are you_?

The man gently placed his palm on Killian's face, caressing the boy's cheek. Killian braved a quick sideways glance up at the man through his long unkempt fringe; he could feel that danger was thick in the air.

"Tell me lad what are you doing on an old coastal barge like this hmm. Can't be much of a life for you with only these dozen old sea salts for company?" The man's voice was rich and yet somehow not pleasant at all.

He then reached for the boy's hands, inspecting them slowly. Fortunately Killian's once soft hands were now calloused from his recent travels, concealing his origins as a gentleman's son.

The man placed his fingers under Killian's chin and turned the lads head to the large vessel tethered to the smaller ship's portside.

"Now how do you like my ship boy; do you not think she is a beautiful vessel?"

It was two times higher than their ship deck, painted in rich colours with three tall masts. It was an ornately carved ship, but not a royal naval ship despite the obvious bank of cannons along her side. It was a warship of sorts, though of dubious origins. Killian had heard the crew speak of corsairs being bought in to help fight the Usurper's war, as the majority of the Royal Naval sailed loyal to the Rightful King.

"She is truly a beauty sir," Killian whispered in a moment of genuine awe.

The corsair captain gave Killian a wide almost predatory smile.

"We have need of another cabin boy on my ship, a much more adventurous life for a dashing lad than this dredge can offer and so many opportunities for a suitable boy hmmm. Would you like that lad, eating fine food, wearing fine silk clothes, rather than being a drab little drudge on this wreck?"  
Killian shuddered. There was something about the captain Killian just didn't like. He felt his skin crawl with the man's cloying manner of speech and over familiar touch.

Captain Teal let out a soft curse and hiss, balling his fists, helpless to intervene as the corsair "inspected" the youngster. Killian dared to look at Captain Teal through hooded eyes and could see the militia also had a look of disdain directed towards the captain of the warship.

"Captain," the other commander barked with a strong dose of barely hidden contempt "We are almost done here, prepare your ship to disengage, we have many more ships to search before the day ends. Leave the lad alone. Go to your ship now, ready your men; I want to be off promptly once we are finished here."

The captain sighed and after one last look, reluctantly left Killian to the severe scrutiny of the commander. If he felt ill at ease before the corsair captain, this man inspired true fear. He had the look and demeanour of one use to obtaining the information he sought with minimum fuss.

Captain Teal had been very careful with every phrase he uttered to the man, knowing his kind well from his navy days, but now Killian was in this commander's sight and how could a confused, visibly shaking boy, the very boy they were probably searching for, not put him and his crew in even more peril.

The commander strode over and placed his hand on Killian's shoulder "And who might you be young sailor?"

The last year on the run had fortunately given Killian survival skills beyond his years; he tried to find a measure of composure in front of this audience of friend and foe he now faced very much alone.

 _Father!_

"Liam sir," he stuttered looking down at the deck, his brother's name the only one he could think of under the circumstances.

"Liam _who_ lad?"

Again Killian felt an unwelcome hand on his face, the commander twisting his head to the left then the right studying his features.

"I…. I'm not sure I can say sir."

Captain Teal and the crew drew in their breath. " _Oh gods of the seas here we go,_ " the captain thought grimly.

"And why pray can't you tell me your last name boy?" The commander said in a voice that was meant to appear friendly but had an undertone of malice.

"My father said I shouldn't ever mention it sir."

Killian was in all effects telling the truth hoping that would give him some grace under the penetrating glare directed on him. He'd learnt quickly it was better to always contain some truth in a deceit.

"Really and why might that be?" the commander hissed losing any friendliness in his tone, his large hands visibly squeezing Killian's shoulder and chin, making the boy wince in pain.

Killian stuttered "Because my father said it would make him very angry and shame him in front of the crew sir."

Almost half a truth.

"Well lad, it will bring much more than shame to the crew if you don't tell me _who_ you are."

Killian cried out in pain, his mind grasping for a plausible reason.

A vision of his father ghosted through his head " _Killian you are a resourceful lad_."

"But papa said I can't …he said it would make trouble," Killian said again truthfully "Serious trouble between him….." and his voice trailed off struggling to think of a reason.

More pain shot through Killian's shoulder as the commander dug into a sensitive spot to induce maximum hurt.

"Why Liam?" the commander demanded harshly tilting the boys head up to answer him.

"I can't!" the boy half sobbed.

Captain Teal clamped his jaw waiting for Captain Jones' son to inevitably break and doom them all.

"I won't ask again boy, now by the King, tell me the truth of it lad _or I will_ send you over to that ship to serve as that damn corsair's new cabin boy.

Killian gulped, at last grasping at an idea that might save him.

"I'm….I'm Liam Teal sir, I be my Captain's bastard sir," he said dolefully glancing over to Captain Teal who gave the boy a surprised then appraising look.

"The captain's rightful sons can only use his name," he whimpered "He says there be endless trouble between him and his wife if I use his name in public sir."

The commander chuckled looking at the now almost crying lad, accepting it as a logical reason why he was on the ship, but still that menace was there as he questioned "Liam" further. After all, the boy was about the right age and colouring of one of his King's many quarry.

"And where are you from then bastard son of Captain Teal, where is your whore of a mother?"

The boy pouted "Dead sir," Killian said truthfully "She…she died of fever two years ago," not so truthfully.

The harsh grip remained biting into Killian's shoulder. Thinking fast Killian thought of a port town where he had passed through, not too close to Ariston but familiar.

"In Ardmore sir, she begged my father to take me and teach me the sea trade before she died." Tears of pain started rolling down his cheeks.

Ardmore!? Well that explained the lilting accent the boy had, the commander hadn't missed that particular tell. Still the commander pressed on curious about the boys looks, obviously not from his "father's" side.

"She must have been a striking bar wench Liam?"

Killian frowned, from what he had seen of bar wenches and their poor children while travelling, he wouldn't get away with pretending to be from that type of life. He even managed to look slightly horrified at the thought of being thought of as a tavern brat.

He fixed his stare on the commander's fine thick black and red overcoat and embroidered "royal" insignia, still too afraid to look directly at the man.

"No sir, no she was a seamstress sir, she made the finest clothes of silk sir and the captain's finest linen shirts."

Deadly Silence for a moment pervaded the deck then suddenly the commander laughed.

"And you lad!"

"Aye and me sir," Killian said shyly looking through his hooded eyes at the now smiling commander. It wasn't the most reassuring of smiles.

At last the commander's grip lessened on Killian's bruised shoulder. The boy had an air of innocence about him and had a believable reluctance in exposing his father's transgression to the world, a perfectly plausible story.

"Well Liam, every sensible sailor knows, it's best to run their life at sea and their family life in port as very separate ships indeed and never should their courses cross, your secret is safe with me."

He laughed again, released Killian and turned to Captain Teal, done with the boy.

The captain walked up to Killian turned him around and cuffed him around the head while shoving him towards the cabin.

"Back down to my quarters boy," he said gruffly, "I'll deal with you later."

He was eager to get the boy off the deck and out of harm's way as best he could under the circumstances. He heaved a sigh then turned to face the commander who had a knowing, wry smile on his face.

The commander then looked over at the crew "What is your bearing Captain?"

"South for Beacon Bay, we are to collect a cargo of wool among other things. Have you any news of the port Commander?"

It was a common enough request for information when ship crews met at sea.

"No, we are heading south as well Captain. The King's Royal Militia thanks you for you service and cooperation. We will leave you to be on your way. Men back to the ship."

With a quick once over the commander turned heal and left the deck as abruptly as he arrived.

Once the two ships separated Captain Teal finally took a much needed deep breath, if it wasn't so early he would've had a good measure of brandy as well to relieve his shattered nerves.

"Mr Pearson set the bearing for Beacon Bay and _do not_ deviate. That son of a bitch will no doubt be watching us every step of the way."

He sighed heavily; he longed to pull in to the shore or even further down the coast to find or glean information of Captain Jones but it was just too risky especially now the fog had cleared. They would have to dock in Beacon Bay, where no doubt the commander's spies will note the ship's entrance and confirm they were legitimate in their intended destination.

The captain stayed on the deck for another half hour putting things to order and calming the crew. He then headed down to his small cabin at last finding the courage to face the task of telling young Killian of his father's hasty departure. He felt his failure to get the captain personally to a safe haven almost as a physical wound in his proud and loyal sea faring heart.

"Killian lad, where are you boy?" he called softly, not wishing to alarm the boy further after that unpleasant ordeal.

He found Killian under the small cabin table hugging his knees to his chest, staring straight back at him with red rimmed eyes, the bruises starting to show on his skin.

"Ah lad there you are. You can come out now Killian, the curs have gone."

Killian didn't move.

"You did well boy," Teal said soothingly "That was some very quick thinking just then, you have the makings of a fine strategist just like your pa."

" _Where_ is my father?" the boy said between gritted teeth.

Thus Captain Teal looked into those questioning sea blue eyes as he explained to the boy about his father's flight from the ship and the militia. He watched sadly as those vibrant eyes turned dull with a despair that was as deep as the ocean they were sailing on.


	18. In the Gloaming

**A/N Gloaming - the period of day when the light of the sun has gone but total darkness has not yet occurred.**

 _When I was a boy, my father and I boarded a ship with plans to travel the realms. One morning, I awoke, and he was gone. Turned out, he was a fugitive. He had fled in the middle of the night to avoid capture._

 _He abandoned you?_

 _Aye. That he did._

Storybrooke _._

Killian awoke with a start and took a moment to gain his bearings as he groggily sat up from his sleeping mat. His hair was damp from the fine mist settling with evening fall, making his dark locks stick to his forehead. Killian ran his hand across his stubble then looked around his makeshift camp in the gloaming.

The fire sputtered beside him, casting a dim, cheerless light in the chill of the early evening, so he twisted around to his small wood pile and plied the fire with fuel, more for illumination than warmth. Captain Killian "Hook" Jones did not feel the cold like lesser sailors and landlubbers.

The gentle ebb and flow of the nearby water reminded him where and when he was currently located. It had been hard to keep up with that small and crucial piece of information at times while adventuring throughout the realms for some 300 years. He usually blamed too much drink upon awaking in a disorientated state in many a strange place. But not this time, this time it was something deep within his soul, spinning his compass out of kilter. He instinctively reached for more rum, taking a swig of the liquor to help calm his still racing heart.

The captain gave a deep sigh as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his raised knees, gathering his thoughts in his now fully awakened state.

Years, decades, maybe even a whole century had passed by since he had allowed himself to last feel the brutal sting of that particular memory. He had constantly pushed down the emotions of his nearly eleven year old self being left on that ship, not wishing to feel what was a raw, ragged wound; Best to keep it in the abyss where it belonged, away from the light of the day.

Killian had been telling Balefire the truth all those years ago in Neverland, about his own abandonment, though he had left out the true circumstances to suit his needs at the time. Half a truth was always better than a lie after all.

Once he was breathing more regularly again Killian thought about how his perspective had recently changed from the said "abandonment" by his father to perhaps something less heartless or callous and more like a terrible sacrifice made out of duty and expedience. He understood better now what his brother and the Seafoam crew had all tried to tell him about that terrible day, though Killian had still let that childhood wound embitter him against his sire. It was perhaps one reason he himself had assiduously avoided fatherhood for three hundred years. It was also one of the reasons he was, as Emma put it, "lurking and brooding" on his almost birth date in this cove alone, slightly drunk and well.. miserable.

Killian could see now how a loving parent would sacrifice anything to protect their child, not the selfish actions of people such as Milah, Rumpelstiltskin and yes himself, where sacrifice was usually a burden someone else bore so the aforementioned could live their lives how they had wanted.

Had he not been regaled the sad tale of Snow and Charming's sacrifice and what they had to do to save his Swan from the Evil Queen, barely a new born, had he not seen what Emma and Regina constantly faced regarding Henry's fate? He could hardly call what the mothers had to do to give Henry his best chance time and again "abandonment".

With a large dose of shame Killian reflected on some of his darker past actions.

 _How many fathers did I separate permanently from their children in my selfish quest for vengeance and plunder on the seas? Or when time and time again a bereaved relative or loved one came seeking my death in revenge, I gave them the same cruel fate. How many children did I leave abandoned and alone through my ruthless acts against their parents?_

He didn't hesitate to betray Bae to Pan's minions and no matter how he tried to justify his actions, he knew he had also abandoned Bae rather than persevere to be a good father figure, so full of wounded pride was he at the lad's words. As he often thought about Bae alone on that forsaken island while they both endured Neverland, Killian had started to realise at least he had people looking out for him when his father left, in his darkest hours there was still compassion from the adults around him.

Killian lay back down on his mat, closed his eyes and let those early memories come back to the surface. His eleventh birth date was one he'd most definitely rather forget but those first days on Teal's ship were as fresh tonight in his mind as the some three hundred years past when they happened.

Seafoam

When eventually, well after the sun's zenith, Teal finally coaxed Killian out from under the table, an almost listless lad was taken up to the deck and properly introduced to the men as their new crew member "Liam". Once shown where his hammock was to be slung and given some of the now cold midday meal, Teal tried occupying Killian by making him take his family sextant to the bow and see if he could determine where on the chart they were in relation to the shore (Teal knew exactly where they were, but the boy needed a distraction).

Killian stared at the shore passing by, somewhere out there was his father. Abandoned, he had abandoned him, after all the talk of sailing the realms together of seeing far off lands, he had left Killian to his fate. The boy bit his lower lip refusing to shed tears. He was determined not to cry again today, he had to be a man now, to survive whatever the changing seas threw his way. He was still too young to really comprehend the reality of his father's military duty to the Rightful King and the realm no matter what the sacrifice, all he understood was his heart hurt and it hurt deeply, so much more than his physical wound on his bruised shoulder.

The next day was no better. With a heavy heart Killian went to the starboard side after some light morning chores. He thought about what the captain had explained to him. So Father was out there somewhere. Maybe he couldn't get to Killian, maybe Killian should get to him? Seeing a small fishing village, as the boat slowly headed past in almost becalmed conditions, Killian calculated how close it was, certainly within his swimming abilities. Killian suddenly climbed up on the railing and decided to head for land. He heard the booming voices from the ship as he resurfaced after his plunge and a splash as someone else jumped in after him. Killian quickly started swimming for that shore.

"Oh bloody hell. Men overboard!"

"Drop anchor."

"Get that rowboat down now. Mason with me now! Man the rowboat," Teal then shouted down to his crew member in the water "Looks like the lad can swim Morgan, head for the boat. Pearson get those anchors down quickly now."

Killian suddenly realised it was a rash, ill thought out decision. The water was cold, very cold. But still he still kicked for shore. He was almost there by the time the row boat caught up with him and knew they would soon be on the beach waiting to grab him, so Killian started to tread water as they came up along-side his position.

"Ahoy there lad. What do you think you be doing?" Teal asked more incredulous than angry that the seemingly timid Killian would attempt such a thing.

"I'm going ashore to find Father," he stated, aware his teeth were already chattering.

"Get in here quick," Teal stretched a hand out "Before the cold gets you."

"No I'm going ashore. I don't mind the cold," Killian said, realising all those hours in the farm pond had a use after all.

"I'd be getting in here quick, like the Captain says if I were you," a rather waterlogged Morgan said with amusement.

"Why?" Killian was defiant.

"Cause the sharks don't mind the cold either lad."

"Oh!"

"Aye you'd make a tasty mid-afternoon snack," Mason the cook joined in.

Killian hadn't thought about that, sharks weren't an issue in the farm pond. Reluctantly he held up his hands and let the men drag him into the rowboat.

Once on deck of the Seafoam and wrapped up in a blanket, Teal sat him down still shaking his head in disbelief at the lad.

Killian braced himself for the expected berating after the trouble he'd just caused, knowing stopping a ship mid-sail was no small matter.

"Killi….Liam" Teal started "I know you must be wishing to find your father but how is he going to find _you_ if you go gallivanting around the realm, at least while on this ship he knows your whereabouts?"

Killian's face dropped.

"You hadn't thought of that, had you?"

"No sir. I'm sorry Captain," Killian gave him a remorseful look. Hesitantly he then asked "Will..will I be getting the lash now sir?"

"The lash?"

"For deserting my post."

"No Liam we don't lash absconders," Teal shook his head again "This is a merchant boat not the Royal Navy. The worst punishment I'd be dishing out is Cooks fish gut stew."

The nearby crew laughed at that for Morgan had just come over and shoved a hot broth in Killian's still shaking hands, which the boy made an involuntary expression of disgust at.

"You going to be causing any more shenanigans boy?" Morgan said gleefully, it was good not to be the youngest on the ship anymore at the tender age of 33.

"I was trying to do the captain a favour," Killian dared some humour, emboldened by Teal's kindness to him despite the trouble he'd just caused.

"A favour?"

"Aye he was wondering how he could get you to bathe this month."

The crewmen chuckled at this, as did their captain.

"Bathe! Why I….well .." Morgan sniffed under his arms as he blushed with mortification "All he had to do was ask." He whined as the captain made for his cabin to fetch the boy some dry clothing so _Liam_ didn't get a chill.

Killian had been put to full duties the next day to try and keep the boy's mind occupied while he adjusted to his new life and to have time to accept his father's hopefully temporary absence. Teal knew from experience how to keep his men in a fit state of mind for the rigors of a sailor's life when capricious fate threw ill winds at them.

The captain ran a well-disciplined ship. Coastal waters were too treacherous and cargo too precious for hot heads and drunkards to be part of his crew. No drinking while on duty nor the shift before duty, no gambling and dice and no bawdy behaviour on his ship thank you very much, which is why he tended to hiring older family men.

They had worked most of those past times out of their systems by the time they wanted the less adventurous, more routine sailor's life that a coastal vessel offered thus they tended to be both reliable and biddable. Within the week Killian had settled into the ship's routine under their guidance. The crew put it down to themselves mostly being said family men, as to why they all felt a very real protectiveness towards this brave boy, who'd suddenly become part of their ship. Perhaps he reminded them of children left behind on land.

Killian had thought much about his options after his impulsive plunge for the shore. The crew weren't a bad bunch really – a little less of the dashing, intrepid adventurers on a sleek navy ship he'd dreamed of and more of the grizzled old salts on a barge, but well things could've been worse. He was better off than some of the youngsters he had seen on land who were without parents. While Killian couldn't call himself an "orphan" (yet) he wasn't sure what he was under these circumstances. "Misplaced" was the best description he'd decided. Killian could jump off at any of the ports but then what? Starve, beg, steal or get caught by the militia. At least here he had a berth, a means to earn and regular food. Hopefully he might catch news of Liam while in the ports. He also had to admit this was the best place for his father to find him, if he were even still alive.

" _No, misplaced not orphaned, keep to that notion Killian."_ He admonished himself.

A fortnight later, as was becoming the boy's habit after his chores were done Killian had perched himself once again on top of the mast in the rigging, staring longingly out to sea, seemingly oblivious to what the weather was doing. Teal allowed this, knowing the boy needed some time to himself away from the other men to deal with his sudden change in circumstances. After all nobody could tell you had been crying your heart out if wild weather wet your face and the howling wind masked your bitter sobs.

Killian watched the distant shoreline as he fought back the despair threatening to drown him this evening. He had turned 11 yesterday and some part of his ever trusting soul had truly believed his father would return to his side before the day's end, to reassure him that this was all simply a mere snag in their travels and he had never intended to abandon his son on this poor excuse for a ship.

Killian had come to the bleak conclusion he was now absolutely alone in the world despite what both his father and brother had once promised him.

Mason the gruff ship cook and also expert sail mender was climbing up the main mast in the fading light trying to secure some broken rigging that had come free. Hearing Mason's curses Killian finally glanced down and saw some ropes flying in the wind. Climbing down from his perch with a surety that only either youngsters or the most experienced seamen ever had, he called over to Mason.

"Here I'll fix it," he said once along-side the sailor, grabbing the rope and neatly tying the loose ends back into one line, in a knot Mason had not seen before.

"Where ye learn to do that boy?"

"My father taught me," Killian said suddenly wondering if Mason believed Teal _was_ his true father.

Mason tugged on it and it held firm.

"Teach me it boy,"

So Killian did, patiently showing the older seaman how to tie the two ends together in this failsafe knot his father had taught him, so long ago it seemed.

"Why you sit up here in the rigging getting all damp n dour anyways?"

"Father said I mustn't mind the cold and wet if I'm to be a great captain," Killian muttered.

Later that evening once Killian had helped clean the crew's dishes, Mason sat him down.

"Skill for traded skill boy," he said in his gruff manner as he reached for a bag containing some things that gave a definite metallic clunk.

Killian's face broke out in his dimpled grin for the first time in two weeks, when he proudly showed the crew during the next evening meal, how fast he could get out of being handcuffed behind his back with his newly learnt lock picking skills.

"Mason you bloody pirate!" Teal said dryly, glaring at his cook and glad to see the boy adapting to life on his ship and settling in with the crew. He had a gut feeling it would be a long haul for the lad.


	19. Fight

Fight

The seasons changed, Seafoam had a few too many close calls with storms and pirates (who were thoroughly enjoying the discord within the realm), Killian grew a bit taller and the daily routine of physical work on a merchant ship kept him well occupied as he adjusted to his "misplaced" status in life.

While in their home port of Ravensbourne, it was time for the Seafoam crew to partake in mid-winter birth date feasts and family gatherings, so the crew left Killian and Mason to guard the ship and mend sails. Teal felt it was safer for Killian on Seafoam than the streets. To take the boy to his home would endanger all if they were discovered to be harbouring the lad there and presently the captain was uncertain if the militia were still actively searching for Killian as a wanted fugitive.

It was on one of these dark winter nights that Killian learnt the truth of Mason's past, as they huddled in the galley by the stove for warmth, sharing some festive food the Captain's wife had sent them (though neither were inclined to celebrate, both acutely aware of their lack of family during such festivities). With six children and then his wife buried one by one over the years, lost to one disease or another, Mason took to the seas with his skills, having nothing on land to stay for. Killian was sobered by this tale and wondered if he too would become a grumpy old sea salt or something much worse if he had to endure such loss. As it was, his hope of reuniting with his father had become some small, black, withered thing, like a plump summer fruit left on the tree to winter's harsh embrace. At least his hope to find his older brother was still strong and this got him through his darkest days of despair, or his occasional fevers from a common malady amongst the young, a bout of the chills.

A sullen spring followed the harsh winter as the crew continued to sail the realm's coasts. Cargo was becoming harder to procure but still there was a demand to ply the coastal waters and enterprise enough for the crew to earn a living. They had been involved more frequently in brawls when docked at harbours, as people grew more desperate; desperate for food, desperate to get away from the brutal rule of the Usurper King enforced by his militia and desperate to seek passage, sometimes by force or stealth. Teal had taken to having his men armed at all times after a couple of rather shoddy attempts at "piracy" by such unfortunate souls. Ports frequently now had the atmosphere of a powder keg just begging for the fuse to be lit by the smallest of sparks.

The sailors got much needed light hearted relief in these tense times when returning stowaways to land. They let their youngest crewmember brandish his cutlass, give an impassioned speech about the landlubber's foolhardy actions in daring to cross the Seafoam crew and then make the said stowaways 'walk the plank' onto the nearest jetty. He did it with such a heart-felt flourish and eloquence he always received cheers and applause from his crewmates. Gratitude from the stowaways for disembarking in a dry state and relatively in one piece also earned Killian a bow or two now and then.

Slate Harbour gave the appearance of being a peaceful, idyllic haven on the spring morning Seafoam anchored there, with calm waters and its two seawalls giving a sense of protection to the town. But the crew knew better than to take that as a sign all was well in the port. They hoped to quickly resupply with the provisions they needed, then be on their way before noon.

Their current anchorage niggled at the Captain's senses that something was brewing. He had spied a fair few tall ships further out in the bay but was unable to determine what sort of fleet it was. He moored out in the harbour waters rather than dock the ship and sent Morgan and Mason to the markets. As he watched them depart in the row boat, he wondered if he should have let Killian accompany them, but the lad needed some shore leave even if it was only an hour or two and he was in safe hands. Those two wouldn't let him get into mischief. Killian had proved himself a capable swordsman during several incidences of late. In fact Teal had been surprised to find Killian quite the challenging sparring partner when the crew practiced armed combat, though his father had hinted the boy was a survivor and his slight build and youth belied his prowess in such situations.

Killian couldn't suppress his grin; he was exhilarated to have some shore leave. To walk down a town street and take in the sights and delicious smells was a rare treat for him since boarding Seafoam. He was surprised he had a bit of a swagger as he got use to terra firma again and hoped he didn't look too ridiculous walking up the hill of the town's main market street. As was his habit, he kept his eyes down when people approached him directly, hiding his face behind his dark hair. Mason and Morgan had no trouble briskly pushing aside people trying to sell their wares to the trio, leaving Killian free to look around as the burly sailors cleared a path through the throng of people.

They'd been able to obtain most of what they needed quickly and had arranged with the harbour's stevedores to deliver the goods to their row boat. They then headed further into town for more specialised goods. Killian had purchased some parchment and various drawing equipment and had even found a few items of clothing, since he was starting to outgrow his sparse wardrobe yet again. They then ended up in a side street, half way up the town's hill, at a vendor Mason knew well. He was haggling hard with the man, over some lengths of leather strap that the crew would have multiple uses for.

Killian and Morgan looked up as they thought they heard some sort of clamour further up the street, both suddenly felt uneasiness, but were unable to explain why. People started to hurry along the streets which Morgan had noticed had become busier, the townsfolk's faces furrowed with concern.

"Mason hurry up, I think something's afoot."

Mason concluded his purchase and they decided to head back down to the docks. The crowds were definitely thickening. Suddenly the clash of steel and screams were heard further up the streets. Panic took only a moment to set in amongst the people and it was all Killian could do, to press back against a wall, out of the way as the crowd started to try and scatter.

"Time to get out of here mates," Mason had drawn his cutlass "Back to the bo…"

The air carried a familiar whistling sound followed by a blast, the ground shook, and then chaos set in.

"That be cannon fire!"

"Aye, but whose?"

"I'm not bloody sticking around to find out, are you?"

The two men grabbed Killian and followed the general direction of the townsfolk rushing down towards the seafront. Suddenly another canon ball ripped through the air, but from the opposite direction.

"I thinks we be in a lot of trouble lads," Mason puffed as he took them down a backstreet.

The clash of steel was getting closer and it wasn't long before the militia's red and black uniforms were sighted pressing down the hill towards them.

"Quick down here Liam, keep between us,"

Mason dragged him through side streets hopefully away from the fighting. But they were everywhere, the tell-tale black and red swirling among the panicked people. The noise was deafening as cannon ball after cannon ball pounded the town, adding to everyone's confusion and fear. Fires were starting in the upper reaches cutting off possible escape routes that way, though the trio knew their escape lay with a small rowboat and a canny old captain.

Suddenly they were faced with a column of grim, determined militia hacking their way through anyone who couldn't get away. Killian watched in horror as he witnessed women and children cut down without mercy, as the militia moved towards the armed men brave and defiant enough to fight back. It was a sight Killian had seen all too often since leaving Ariston and left him sick to his soul. He raised his cutlass to go join in the fray and managed to get in a few thrusts, but Mason grabbed him roughly by the collar, backing into a side street.

"It's not our fight boy, down here quickly!" Killian pouted but knew the older man was right.

No matter where they turned the fighting surrounded them, the screams of the innocent mingling with the battle cries of those that were determined to bloody their hands.

Mason cursed as he recognised one of his worst fears in such a brawl, looking at some motley fighters pressing their advantage on the townsfolk.

"Mercenaries dammit, here to butcher and plunder for our beloved King" he spat in contempt.

All three were panting hard, finding it difficult to breathe in the now smoke filled atmosphere as fires spread quickly. Killian gagged as he realised he had just stepped over the bloody remains of what looked to be a family, huddled in the back lane they were trying to get through. Finally they pushed out into a wider street and could see the water indicating the bottom of the town and its harbour.

But they could also see another wave of men charging up the hill towards them.

"Oh for fucks sake, now what?" Mason raised his cutlass.

"Wait! I think those be the Rightful King's men," Morgan said hopefully.

"Here, in here," Killian indicated a deep portico of a shop for them to take refuge in as the men in the Rightful King's regalia rushed by, intent on hunting the black and red uniforms of their enemy.

Killian was catching his breath again, only to look out at a man about to run down a small, frightened boy, who had bolted out of the lane Killian had just emerged from. He stepped out and blocked the brute, thrusting his sword into the man's side without hesitation. Unfortunately he hadn't seen the man's companions running at pace behind him. Mason had rushed out only just in time to parry a slash that would have taken Killian's head off, while Morgan engaged a third as Killian dealt to his victim on the ground. Killian's sword skills took over as he turned to find himself fighting for his life as more mercenaries emerged and saw their fallen friends.

This was no practice drill, this was very much for real as his heart raced and muscles ached with each jarring blow of his cutlass. He was holding his own but knew he wouldn't be able to sustain his attack against battle hardened, blood thirsty mercenaries for long. Some of the townsfolk had come over to join the fray, men and women determined to prevent the mercenaries from butchering more of their people, so at least the odds had got slightly better for the Seafoam crew.

Killian quickly glanced to the store to seek an escape root and edged backwards, but in that moment he lost his footing as he fell over something. Using his natural agility to roll upright again, he realised it was the wee lad he had tried to save, now a small body motionless on the cobble stones, run through by a mercenary, just because he could. Anger flared through Killian as he stood firm to take on these filthy dogs once again. He didn't have to wait long. Mason and Morgan were picking off a couple of men when Killian found himself being backed into the wall by a third. He deflected the man's lunges as best he could, then felt something sear across his skin, just missing his nose as he instinctively turned his cheek away, though not quite fast enough to evade the tip of the man's sword. Killian cried out in pain but managed to hold his sword out in a defensive block as Mason quickly ran the man through from behind. Killian watched as the man's eyes widened in pain, he then violently thrust up into the man's chest, delivering the death blow himself. Killian couldn't take his sea blue eyes off the fast dimming eyes of his fatally wounded foe. It was Morgan who pulled him back from that terrible deadlock, helping him wrench his cutlass out of the man's torso.

"Liam, Liam! Are you badly hurt?"

Killian regained his sense of his current surroundings. The groans of the dead and dying mingling with the screams of the living punched through his shock of having taken two lives today. Cannon fire was still booming, but further away now.

Mason grabbed his free arm and they dragged him into the shop after forcing its door open.

Killian became aware of the blood streaming from his face, the pain of the sword cut that had slashed his cheek now starting to throb.

"I'm…. I'm alright," he stuttered.

He was bloody well not going to faint in front of them, despite his overwhelming pain and the realisation it was mostly his blood smeared all over his waistcoat and shirt front.

"Here we best get that bandaged and get back to the ship while the Rightful King's men have those bastards on the run."

"What ….?" Killian was confused and then he realised that a relative calm had settled in the street, with no sword clashes audible or mercenaries trying to bash down the shop door.

The men caught their breath and took in their surroundings. Fortunately, it was a milliner's store by the looks of it. Grabbing a fist full of silk handkerchiefs off a nearby table and a couple of scarfs, Mason made a makeshift bandage for Killian's face wound.

"Halt!" someone squeaked "I have a loaded pistol." The trio turned slowly and faced its rather frightened owner, as he waved said pistol at them. Mason rolled his eyes.

"We not be here to pillage," Mason stated firmly, "We be just tending to the lad and we will go peacefully back out the front door."

The milliner was shaking. His nervousness a dangerous state, if the pistol was truly loaded.

"Here be some copper coins for your goods," Mason carefully placed some coinage slowly on the table.

The milliner's eyes opened in surprise and he was about to lower the pistol when the boom of a cannon ball hitting nearby startled them all. The man squeezed the trigger in fright, shooting over the sailor's heads, into the store ceiling.

Morgan growled "Just for that, you can bloody well show us the back door out of here." The nervous man didn't dare refuse them.

They finally made it to the docks and could see the source of some of the cannon fire. Two lines of ships, mostly large multi-deck war ships, were out in the bay, fully engaged in a naval battle, though it was impossible to tell who was dominant from the shore. Another large warship had her cannon banks aimed at the shore. She was sailing parallel to the harbour's outer seawall, giving cover fire to whose ever militia and ground forces she was allied with, firing up into the town's higher reaches periodically. The sailors could not know of course in the confusion, that this was mostly into the Usurper King's militia stronghold at an old castle keep and the ship was the Cormorant, Killian's father still sadly absent from her command deck.

They made it to where their boat should have been, but of course it had long been pilfered by fleeing townsfolk, the stevedores not stupid enough to hang around to defend it.

"We'll have to swim for it," Morgan said eying up the Seafoam and the distance. At least Teal hadn't yet set sail and left them to their fate. They looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and waded in, still with their small leather travel packs with purchases on their backs. Killian didn't know what angered him the most, the fact that his face was probably ruined or his precious parchment was about to be.


	20. Flight

Captain Teal had held his nerve and stayed put as long as he dared, waiting for his missing crew to return. There was only a slight breeze, but it was enough to get them over to the seawall where the deeper currents would help them escape, if they could avoid being blown apart by cannon fire. So far the war ship patrolling outside the harbour had been aiming high into the town rather than picking off the dozen or so merchant ships in the harbour.

"Captain, Captain! I think I see them over there on the Stevedore Quay."

Teal swung his telescope around from the sea battle he had been keeping a close eye on, over to the quay.

"Aye that's them, weigh anchor men, let's get ourselves out of this hell hole. Drop a ladder for them; they'll have to swim for it."

Luckily he had sent three sailors who could actually swim, to shore that day, only half his crew could. He watched anxiously as the three made slow progress towards the ship. Unlike some of the boats that had actually docked (a couple which were now on fire and listing badly) nobody had been stupid enough to try and board Seafoam. Her Captain thought it was probably because she was the proverbial sitting duck, anchored out in the harbour, with a naval battle raging a few leagues from her mooring.

What seemed almost too long for the crew's nerves to endure, the shore party were finally able to climb up the side and board. Teal immediately called to trim the sails and carefully made his way out of Slate Harbour.

Killian shakily gripped the rail once on deck, looking back on the destruction visible in the town. Mason clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You be alright for now, Liam?" he asked with concern, knowing they had much work to do yet, to be free of the harbour and surrounding battle zone.

"Aye." Killian nodded solemnly, as Mason adjusted the lad's soggy makeshift bandage.

"Good, you're a tough one….now what in blazes is that? Captain Teal!"

Teal turned upon hearing Mason's call.

"Over aft, portside on the seawall, the Good King's Naval Flag, Captain."

Teal swung round and looked along the seawall with his telescope while Pearson took the wheel. He could see figures frantically waving the naval flag from the deceased king's reign. Skirts and bonnets became apparent as he focused in, the women running along the wall trying to frantically get their attention. Given the old royal navy flag, they were most likely wives of naval men. He also saw coming along the wall fast behind them, a group of militia with no good on their minds. The women would make valuable captives for the enemy if their husbands served on the Rightful King's ships.

"Oh for fucks sake, them be women trapped out there Captain, we gotta help em." Teal heard the rest of the crew agree with Mason's plea.

"Aye I see them men, shorten the sails,' Teal shouted, taking back the wheel and turning the ship into the direction of the seawall.

"Liam get up portside and put that sounding line and plummet to good use boy, warn me if we be getting into the shallows."

"Aye Captain," Killian rushed to the bow to do his duty, a new surge of adrenaline coursing through his blood. The crew scrambled to get the ship into her new position. Being a coastal ship she was well capable to getting next to the wall; if only she could avoid the naval ships firing cannon balls in her direction, if only the harbour currents held favourable, if only her captain held his breath and said the right sailor's oaths as he took Seafoam dangerously close towards the solid barrier of rock.

Killian leaned over the portside of the bow, letting the line down again and again, calling out his readings as it hit the bottom. "She's enough draft Captain," he said in relief while the crew anxiously watched the women's progress towards where the ship was coming in, the enemy looming closer to them every minute.

"Men drop anchor," Teal yelled as they got as close as they dare along the wall, a good 20 fathoms ahead of the women.

"Get the gang planks out now!"

The militia were gaining fast on the women's heels, who were partially hindered by their full skirts and the few possessions they carried. None dared look behind them, focusing on getting to the safety of the ship in front of them.

"Nick! Peter! Load our swivel cannons." The two small, portable cannons were their only defence against marauders and currently mounted on the stern.

"Get ready to fire," Teal held his breath (again) waiting for the best moment where the women were close enough to him, but the militia were far enough to still be in range, while everyone else was out of the danger of being hit by shrapnel. "Wait for my order….steady…..steady."

Abruptly the seawall exploded in front of the militia, renting a large hole and sending rock shards in all directions.

"Bloody hell men! What are you doing?"

"Eh Captain, that wasn't us." Peter shouted once he managed to regain his footing.

Teal looked out to sea with his telescope, towards the warship closest to them and could just make out the vision of a very satisfied navy captain looking back.

"Aye men that be the Royal Navy coming to our aid," Teal shouted with glee.

The men cheered or waved their caps at the naval ship then got on with the business of getting the gang planks out. The few militia, that were somehow still standing, couldn't cross the large breech in the wall now the sea was rushing in, so were effectively stymied in their pursuit of their potential captives.

At last the women reached the ship and were hastily man handled on board by the crew. Teal kept an eye on the ships out to sea, the sight of a few of the Usurper King's frigates now well on fire cheering him immensely, but the battle still raged and would do for a while yet, gauging by the calibre of the ships still involved. Hopefully they would make it out of here, if they could just now avoid colliding with the few other ships making for the harbour mouth, all fleeing to the safety of less volatile coastal waters.

Finally, once well away from the naval battle, some of the crew diverted their time from sailing to assessing Seafoam for any damage. Two crew members helped settle the unexpected passengers on the deck, counting 27 women and children in all. Teal had been correct in his assumption; they were wives whose spouses were currently serving in the Royal Navy and loyal to the Rightful King.

Killian had remained at the bow. He had started to shake uncontrollably once they had sailed clear of the battle and he had time to dwell on the terrible scenes in the harbour town. He promptly found himself leaning over the edge and throwing up a delicious red berry tart he'd been delighted to devour that morning, while in town. It wasn't the first time he had seen carnage or had to defend himself over the last few years. To watch a person's eyes dim with death at the end of a sword no longer moved him as it once had, but still, he had taken his first two lives today. He felt numb about the whole fight but he just didn't care about their deaths enough to feel sorrow (the little boy would haunt him for a while though, he wasn't that heartless yet). So Killian put his shakiness down to the rush of battle, loss of blood and the waste of a precious red berry tart. Why hadn't he noticed the seas had got suddenly rough though? Killian barely had time to raise his eyebrow in puzzlement as the deck lurched towards him at a startling speed.

Teal saw the youngster starting to flag, and was walking over to Killian, he'd only just noticed the lad's head was bandaged and his front was covered in blood. Teal tensed as he watched the boy slowly turned back in towards the deck, a hand on the rail for support, his face drained of colour.

Killian didn't faint in front of Mason and Morgan. Instead he fainted in front of the whole bloody crew.


	21. Scar Tissue

Killian could hear people calling his assumed name but they seemed so far away.

 _Just a few more moments, just let me sleep a bit longer_ , he thought groggily.

"LIAM!"

The rough shaking on his shoulder brought him back to wakefulness and unfortunately also the acute pain in his face.

"Captain, ssorrrry I fell asleep at my post."

He was confused to where exactly he'd fallen asleep as he felt himself being lifted up into a sitting position.

"Liam lad what happened to you? Morgan what …oh hang on?"

Killian felt rough hands pull his hair back from his uninjured side, as Teal stopped his inquires to attend to Killian heaving up his stomach again, though now he was only able to dry retch.

"We ah ran into some mercenaries and well the lad took a sword cut to his cheek." Morgan looked at the bandage now half hanging off; Killian's wound had started bleeding again when he had hit the deck.

"How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as the sword wound he gave the bastard that did it." Morgan half smirked.

Teal looked at him for confirmation "You mean he put an end to the cur?"

"Aye n another too. He be proper battle bloodied now."

There was a reason ship boys traditionally had to be over 13 in the realm, as attacks by pirates or other scum were not uncommon and it was considered good manners that the crew were at least big enough to fight and defend themselves when such misfortunes occurred. Killian had shown time and time again both courage and skills beyond Teal's expectations for a lad who wasn't even twelve yet. Teal was determined to make sure Killian actually managed to reach that age, as he held the injured boy upright.

"Liam your injury, we need to look at it lad."

Killian nodded, pressing his lips together as he remembered where he was and why his face hurt.

Some of the woman had come over, having heard the commotion of the men when Killian fainted.

"Can we be of help Captain? We will look after him if you need to be attending to your ship."

"Aye that would be helpful goodwife, we best get him somewhere a bit more comfortable."

"Come boy you look like you'll need something strong to help with the pain. I don't suppose you ladies have any poppy with you?"

"No Captain but we do have someone who can help. Maria she be a fine seamstress and deft with a blade and sutures when the occasion arises. She could stitch up any wounds for him."

"Aye that's what Liam here needs by the looks of it." Teal and Morgan helped Killian up and half carried him over to the area behind the mast of the ship where Seafoam was the most stable. Luckily it was still a reasonably calm day to attempt patching together Killian's face.

Teal sent for Mason with orders to bring the boy a dose of brandy from the captain's cabin. It wouldn't take long to work its numbing effects on his slight frame. Killian gagged a little as they got him to drink it, unused to the taste of strong liquor. They slowly removed his bandage and the handkerchiefs, the collective audible groans made him realise it must have looked as bad as it felt.

"Aye that will need stitching. Liam we will have to hold you down lad, while we clean it for you with the alcohol." Teal gave Killian a leather strap to bite down on. A dark haired woman suddenly appeared in Killian's line of sight, gently lifted his head, slipped something under him for support and then firmly grasped both sides of his lower jaw.

"Captain I am Maria, I'll stitch the cut once it's cleansed."

Teal nodded, then indicated to his helpers to tighten their grips and poured some brandy over Killian's wound. Killian was weakened but that didn't stop him from nearly kicking free of the burly sailors as he arched off the deck in pain, his muffled scream nearly turning to sobs.

Teal removed the strap "Breath Liam, breath, you're doing well lad." Killian's groans of pain said otherwise. The captain had seen plenty of battles to know how to deal with wounds, though chances were high the boy would fever and potentially lose his life or some of his face to flesh rot if they weren't able to clean out the wound properly.

"Captain I will stitch the wound but it will be best if we could strap his head down at the very least."

"Aye, men you heard Maria, we need to have a table, should we take him into the galley?"

"No the daylight will be best for me to see my stitching?"

So they made a makeshift table and strapped Killian firmly down. Maria sent the crew away, stating she and her companions would work better without them hovering nervously around her as she did what was required. The last thing Captain Teal saw was Killian's rather disconcerted look as he disappeared behind a curtain of skirts while the women prepared for the delicate task of stitching his cheek up.

Maria soaked a cloth and wiped away as much blood as she could. It was a neat slice but still a large open gash, revealing the muscle beneath. She sighed; it would leave an ugly, deep scar on the boy's face, even with her best needle work. He was lucky she always kept needle and thread in her skirt pockets out of habit, which could do such a delicate job.

Killian unexpectedly had a deep pang of longing for Dr Williams and his expert ministrations. He longed to see their family again, a stray thought filling his head as to what their fate had been these past few years. He felt peculiar, as the brandy he'd been given made him feel sleepy and disorientated, though all the while he nervously watched the woman thread her needle, his body tensing with the thought of what was to come.

Killian was gently blindfolded by one of the woman so he couldn't see the needle coming towards his face or get accidently stabbed in the eye by it, if he suddenly managed to move his head under the strap.

"Liam this will hurt, but I promise it will be over soon." The dark haired woman soothed. Putting the leather piece back in his mouth she gently placed her fingers on his cheek "Here we go Liam."

Maria was just about to place her first stitch when a small hand grasped hers.

"Niamh!"

"Please Mama, let me try first."

"Niamh, no you can't!" Maria's fear for her daughter was evident in her tone and features.

"Mama I can help him, I know I can."

Looking at the other women Maria gauged whether their looks were in agreement with her daughter or disgust for Niamh's natural talent. It could go either way and seal their fate on this ship.

"If she can, it be better for the boy." One of them finally said reluctantly, grimacing at the thought of a youngster having to endure the alternative.

A muffled cry from the table drew their attention to the patient. The nearest woman removed the leather strap from Killian's mouth.

"What's…what's going on?" Killian's shaky voice queried from the table.

"Liam we are going to try something else first." Maria looked at the two young people before her, their fates had crossed perhaps for a good reason, during these terrible, dark times.

"We are going to try a healing magic."

"You're going to use _sorcery_ on me?" he yelped. It wasn't an unexpected reaction. "But it's….it's forbidden. No I won't let you." He was struggling to get up from the table but his outcry sent pain through his raw wound, causing him to collapse back onto it.

"Could we be alone?" Maria asked the other women and they nodded then moved away as far as they could, without raising suspicion amongst the ship's crew.

Niamh raised the blindfold and looked into Killian's hooded eyes, taken back at first by their sea blue intensity; she knew some of that was partially due to his current pain, while he in turn eyed the dark haired girl sceptically. She looked similar in age to him which didn't ease his fears one bit.

"I..I..have a gift, it's not a dark gift, I use it for _good_ , I promise." She looked at him shyly trying to gauge his reaction. "I know by Royal Decree I'm not supposed to use my gift and I'm not sure I can heal you completely, well…because I have to hide it, so don't get much practice, but Liam it's got to be better than having a needle stuck in your face." She reasoned.

"Magic is always dark. Everyone knows those who use it, use it for their own gain." He snapped at her, thinking of the "Usurper King" and how he had been in league with dark sorcery to gain power.

"Not always Killian." She said, sadly seeing the familiar look of contempt for her magic, even on his young face.

"Well it always comes with a price, I know that much." He winched, it hurt so much to speak with the gash.

"Liam, I think the fact that my mother, our friends and me are here and even able to have this talk with you, means that price has well and truly been paid. We owe you and the crew all our lives; let me pay them back, by helping you." She smiled slightly, hoping he'd see the sincerity in her offer.

He thought about that and looked at the needle still in her mother's hand and shuddered.

"You won't try to gain some sort of control over me or accidently give me two heads?" he asked slowly, to avoid more pain as he talked.

She gave a small smile "I'll try not to."

He nodded and took in a deep breath, indicating she could replace the blindfold, not wanting to see what was coming next. Niamh raised her hand and gently placed it over his wounded cheek. She said an incantation under her breath that Killian couldn't make out as he felt himself slip back into drowsiness. He felt warmth along his cheek and tingling sensations as she worked on his face. She checked him for any other fresh wounds, which she then healed as well.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he heard "It is done, I'm sorry Liam there is still a scar, but it's mostly healed and if you rub something like almond oil into it each day, the scar should lessen." Maria unstrapped him and gently sat Killian up, removing his blindfold. He blinked, adjusting to the daylight again and looked at Niamh with curiosity and maybe a little awe.

"Can…can I touch it now?" He noticed the pain wasn't as piercing as before.

Niamh nodded. It felt numb and a bit like pins and needles. He could feel the roughness of a new scar under his calloused fingers and he could flex his cheek without too much pain.

"I'll look like a proper pirate now," he grinned tentatively, unsure how to say the heartfelt thank you he suddenly felt towards the dark haired lass beside him.

Maria sent Niamh back towards their section of deck (out of danger she hoped) as she presented Killian to Captain Teal, very afraid what the man's reaction would be. Teal studied Killian. His face had not a stitch in sight and sported a new raw scar across his cheek. Teal gazed thoughtfully at Maria, understanding full well how such things came to be, so simply nodded his thanks to her.

"Well Liam, now that's sorted, we best get some broth into you and get you to your bunk, I think you've had far too much excitement today." Both Killian and Maria let out the breaths they'd been holding, though for very different reasons.

Exhaustion saw Killian get a relatively undisturbed night's sleep. He felt recovered enough to join the crew back on deck, once Mason had insured he'd got some solid food into his stomach and kept it there. Nobody commented on his healed face wound, if the Captain was comfortable with a bit of sorcery then so were they.

Over the next three days Killian always suddenly became clumsy or developed a stutter around Niamh. She thought it was due to the revelation of her magic, she was well used to being looked at askew and if villagers were a superstitious, untrusting lot, sailors were even more so.

Killian couldn't understand his inability to string a sentence together when in the presence of Niamh; he simply wasn't used to being at a loss for words. Whenever she had approached him to talk, Killian blushed profusely, looked down at the deck, scratched behind his ear then mutter something about the lines that needed tending to. He would then hurry off to the other end of Seafoam or even better, up into the safety of the rigging. He didn't understand why he felt this giddiness when he was close by her. Was this what landlubbers felt like when on a ship for the first time and getting sea sick or had she in some way bewitched him after all?

Manson and Teal watched this with much amusement, knowing exactly what the blushing, tongue tied youth's affliction was.

"Well I'll be at last" Mason mused.

"At last what?" Teal inquired.

"Well that young lad, he be a capable sailor, a natural at navigating and sword fighting n his way with words is sometimes _way_ over my head, so it be nice to see there's at least one thing he's not a ruddy natural at."

"What's that?" Teal asked.

"He be absolute rubbish at sweet talking the lasses." Mason chuckled.

When the Seafoam finally called into a safe northern port to allow the refugees to disembark, the men congregated by the gang plank to say their farewells and wish the woman luck in finding their menfolk. Much thanks and gratitude was exchanged.

Niamh paced over to Killian, who as usual, blushed and looked down at the deck in consternation.

"Goodbye Liam," she said, reaching out and taking his hand. "Thank you for…"

Suddenly she went still and looked at him, eyes wide as they both felt a jolt.

"Killian!" she looked at the sweet, shy boy in front of her with shock "Oh Killian! Don't…. don't allow the darkness to be all that there is. One day you will have a choice which path to follow, continue to be alone or belong to something noble." Her voice sounded older and flatter than normal. "Be brave Killian and choose to turn away from the darkness."

With that she let his hand go, blinked and stepped back from him, her face pale and distraught.

He gasped. She had used his real name, how could she know, was it sorcery again?

But she had already disengaged from him and made for the gang plank before he could say anything.

"Niamh wait," he ran over and grabbed her arm, finally finding his words "How did you know my..my name?"

She looked scared of him and she was, having seen a small glimpse what this lad would become and tried to break free to join the women.

"Niamh please I…I want to thank you for this."

He indicated his cheek. She relaxed a little, seeing innocence in his beautiful eyes. Niamh gently placed her hand on Killian's new scar, looked into his confused sea blue eyes and whispered "Thank me by always treating those of us who have white magic with love and kindness, not fear or hate, Killian." And at that she turned and left the perplexed boy to his dark fate.


	22. Solitary

The dawn lit up the peaceful cove with a soft pink glow; it would be another changeable day in Storybrooke by the looks of the clouds gathering along the horizon. A lone figure rose up off the cove's beach and stretched out his lean figure. A bit worse for wear, he scrubbed his hand over his sleepy face as he appraised the calm waters before him.

Killian rubbed his scar. He had barely ever noticed it especially after he swore to a life of piracy. After all scars were part of the course and he had plenty of them scattered over his body to admire or lament, depending on the circumstances of how he acquired them. But that scar on his face, how had he forgotten about that whole incident and the girl who healed him that day?

Even when he was grooming himself in his looking glass he never gave it a thought. True he was more often intent on getting his kohl just right or keeping his beard perfectly trimmed to maintain his _devilishly_ handsome looks. (A few too many encounters in Killian's first year of piracy being mocked by his intended victims as the "Pretty Boy Pirate Jones" saw him quickly adopt a more sinister countenance, to further enhance his ruthless reputation).

Of course Killian always avoided looking into his own eyes for too long in the mirror, least he remember the honourable navy lieutenant he once was before…..well before he interred Liam to the eternal cold of the deep seas, before he rapidly became someone he couldn't face in that mirror, even for the briefest of moments.

 _Liam!_ _Third time not so lucky my brother._

Killian suddenly realised he had long ago thought Niamh's words had referred to what he was becoming when on the cusp of manhood, until that fateful day that steered his sad little life back onto the right course for another decade (before he truly embraced his less than noble side).

Now as he thought about it, she must have meant his choice at Storybrooke's harbour. With a clear horizon before him, a magic bean in his palm and the noble cause rapidly falling behind him in the doomed town he had just fled from, he had somehow then chosen the right path. Killian's head hurt just thinking about it all (maybe the rum had a bit to do with it too, he was getting rather out of practice of late).

Killian huffed as the random memories floated through his mind. His encounter with magic as a young boy had subconsciously helped him when he lost his hand. He and some of his crew didn't hesitate to seek out a white magic practitioner to heal his stump. It allowed him to farewell his beloved Milah, with the honour of a proper sea burial and meant he was well enough to command and sail the Jolly Roger to Neverland, all within a few days of his being mutilated. It had cost a fair portion of his pirate booty and maybe a few threats were needed, but trusting in that magic had also saved him from the inevitable long battle with infections and flesh rot. Well he was certainly being very conscientious about treating those who possessed white magic with love and kindness these days. Killian smiled fondly as he thought of his beautiful Swan, while he removed his boots.

He plunged his hook into the nearest tree trunk, then unstrapped his brace and stripped off his clothes as fast as a one handed pirate with a hangover could. Killian neatly arranged his leather attire and undergarments on his sleeping mat and strode towards the water. He wasn't bothered by the cold sea and quickly dived beneath the surface. There was nothing like an early morning swim in your birth date ensemble (on your actual birth date no less) to clear a heavy head and calm an aching soul.

 _Seafoam_

The civil war was finally over. The Royal Navy and the armies of the Rightful King had slowly regained the southern provinces, cutting off the Usurper King's desperate retreat. His capture saw the usurper sent to Port Regal, humiliated, beaten and in chains. The Rightful King did not hesitate to have the defeated, brutal ruler swiftly tried for his crimes and executed at the palace, before any sympathisers could even think to rally to the doomed nephew's side.

While many in the kingdom rejoiced in their regained freedoms, others still lived with the uncertainty of what their loved one's fates were or whose side those loved ones had actually been on. Killian no longer had to live in fear of the Usurper King's militia but still his heart was heavy with apprehension as to what this new peace meant exactly, for him.

Seeing a familiar uniform a few weeks past when at port, Killian had dared go up to the men who were obviously royal naval officers. It was something he could not have even contemplated only a few months ago. Captain Teal also wandered over to the group, suspecting what his twelve year old crewman was up to.

He had held on to the hope for so long of being reunited with his older brother, Killian hadn't been prepared for the news the officers gently divulged to Captain Teal and him. The Triumphant had foundered whilst engaging the enemy and though her captain had managed to initially beach her, one of the Royal Navy's finest ships now lay wrecked at the bottom of the bay, off the coast near Ardmore. The officers regretted to report to Captain Teal that a Lieutenant Liam Jones and many other souls were presumed lost during the Battle of Medusa's Run. It had been a fearsome conflict that sent many ships and sailors from both sides to dwell permanently on the ocean floor.

At the next port, most of the crew accompanied Killian to one of the many sailors' chapels along the coast. Here seamen and their families would go to beseech a sea deity, pray for the safe return of loved ones out on the oceans, or simply honour and perform the realm's rituals for lost souls at sea. After all, none of Seafoam's crew had come out of the civil war unscathed and it was as good a time as any to acknowledge fellow sailors, who hadn't survived these past few years.

A month later, on a late summer's afternoon, Teal was mulling over Killian's dereliction of duty. The lad hadn't returned with Mason and Pearson as expected, after he had completed a ship errand at the port's markets. Teal was feeling conflicted and had sent a couple of the crew to ask around the docks, if anybody had by chance seen the lad. Seafoam had to leave on the morning tide, as money was too tight to forfeit the expected delivery date of their cargo in a few days. What if Killian didn't return to the ship?

Teal had made a promise to Tobias Jones and now it seemed he might not get to keep that promise, just as the world righted itself after two years of turmoil and Captain Jones's boy was finally free from the tyranny of the usurper's militia. Seafoam's watch were on high alert all through the night, for any sign of their missing shipmate. Teal wanted to know immediately if the boy showed his face no matter what the hour.

The crew should have remembered to simply look up. Dawn's light revealed their quarry, in his usual place up in the rigging. Having slipped on board in the evening, Killian had sought out his favourite solitary haunt and its familiar comfort under the starry skies.

Morgan sighted Killian as he came on deck to start the early watch and instantly climbed up the mast. He swung his legs through the lines beside Killian and sat there in silence for a moment or two, observing the boy. It was only then he noticed Killian was sound asleep in his upright position, his limbs threaded through the rigging so he wouldn't fall.

"Liam, wake up lad," he gently shook the boy and kept a firm grip on him, least he fell from his perch in fright by being suddenly awakened.

Killian opened bloodshot eyes and looked towards the sailor. He didn't have the energy to even acknowledge his shipmate. His lips were bloody and bruised and Morgan noticed his knuckles were too. The sailor waited a bit, just sitting quietly beside Killian while he tried to wake up fully.

At last Morgan spoke. "You been in a fight lad?"

"Aye," Killian whispered.

"Captain don't like brawling."

'Yeah. But they deserved it." Killian said through half closed eyes, his head lolling against the lines.

"You win?"

"Aye, well sort of."

He rubbed his sore jaw. It had been between him and a mouthy, smart arse navy cabin boy, who thought he could make an example in front of his friends, of a mere merchant navy ship boy, wandering around the docks alone. He thought wrong. Killian smirked, thinking of how the git was going to explain his badly ripped, blood stained naval uniform to his captain, not to mention a possible broken nose. Killian had to be dragged off the defeated cabin boy before he could do any more damage, his point well and truly made who the lesser sailor was.

Killian puffed out a breath. By the sea gods, all his muscles ached as he shivered in the dawn chill.

Killian had recently decided he was no longer "misplaced" but orphaned, as peacetime had yielded no contact of any sort from his father and his brother's life seemed certain to have ended in a naval battle. He was just so frustrated by the not knowing what all the hells the actual truth of the Jones's fates were.

Morgan tried consoling with the boy, understanding the youth's need to vent some of his pent up emotions, by getting into a damn good brawl.

"It's not an easy thing to bear, the loss of a brother, Liam."

Killian grimaced; all he had left of that brother was the name he himself was now known as. He groaned. "I'm like Mason now, aren't I?"

"Nah, you at least still have a chance with the lasses." Morgan half jested.

Killian snorted, it wasn't a particularly reassuring argument given his rather limited contact with the fairer sex, since Seafoam had become his home.

Killian had realised while limping back from that fight, to the only place he'd had as _home_ for the last few years, that he was never called a "cabin boy". He was always called Lucky Liam (after Seafoam's escape from several close calls with pirates) or "sailor" or sometimes semi-jokingly "our navigator." On the ship he had a station in life; out there he was just a boy with no family and no future.

'Come on." Morgan started towards the deck. "Best go down n face the Captain. He's gonna bellow at you for quite a bit and probably make you scrub the decks from stern to bow for scaring us all by running off like that, but you'll get through it lad. We all do." Morgan said sadly. After all it had been two months since he had found out he'd lost a little brother to the civil war as well.


	23. Where Sea Eagles Dare

_Storybrooke_

If there was one thing Emma Swan knew she was exceptional at, it was finding people who didn't want to be found, even grumpy 300 year old pirates. She had good instincts for uncovering why people had disappeared and the when and where, no matter how cold the trail was. That and her ability to sense if someone wasn't telling the truth had made her a success in her chosen vocation as a bails bond person and of course the best person to catch someone on the run was someone who had done a lot of running herself. But on this day, she used those skills for a quest of a much more personal nature. She respected Killian's need for some solitude but she also wanted to understand what was bothering her favourite swashbuckler. Something obviously was and if the situation was reversed she knew he wouldn't rest until he found some way to soothe her angst. She'd read his note written in that beautiful, elegant writing of his (she secretly hoped he'd never learn to email).

It had said " _don't worry about me love"_ so she didn't, but she was damn well going to understand about " _me."_

Emma had gone first to the Jolly Roger to gain some insight (and perhaps just to be in that one place that was so _Killian/Hook_ ). She found Killian's papers on his desk with calculations and diagrams drawn in his precise, meticulous style. She studied Killian's workings and came to the conclusion that it must have been a date that had unsettled him.

Emma smiled as she remembered him bounding into Granny's like an excited puppy, exclaiming how he had worked out the correlation between the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke's dates. Mary Margaret had jokingly got out some of her gold star stickers from school to award Killian for his "Excellent Effort". Although the exact gesture was lost on Killian, the sentiment wasn't and the reformed pirate beamed with boyish pride at his accomplishment.

Emma then remembered Robin had said how the Merry Men had a feast and celebrations to prepare for, so she went out to their camp in official "Deputy Sheriff on a mission" mode. Questioning them revealed Killian had supplied one of them with the date, so she had tracked the merry man and gently (honestly!) interrogated him. He was merry but not very astute. Emma's next port of call (yeah, Hook was wearing off on her) was to the library and Belle. Indeed Killian had visited and been very intensely studying the astronomy books and star charts with Belle helping him on the "magic box" for a few hours. He had kept what exactly he was looking for very much to himself.

So what was it that was bothering Killian? An anniversary maybe! Probably a particularly sad one though was it Milah, Liam or something else. Emma could only wait for Killian's promised return tomorrow to learn the answer to that. She returned to the sheriff's station feeling none the wiser and prepared for a tedious day of paperwork at the office.

 _Seafoam (on a mid-spring day)_

It was a routine inspection for the Royal Naval Ship Osprey as she hauled up to the side of the coastal ship Seafoam. Like so much in the realm, the smaller ship had the visible marks of taking a battering and displayed a shabbiness that reflected a kingdom trying to recover from a costly civil war. The merchant ships were still at business but there had not been much to trade this last winter along the coast. Trade had slowly improved as other realms sent their wares to the kingdom, sensing a chance for certain profit, as people were so desperate for what little there was locally.

Captain Teal and his crew welcomed the Osprey's Captain, Captain Lucas, two lieutenants and three able seamen on the ship, as they went through the ritual of declaring intentions and goods. Teal gave permission for a search in the holds. Everyone was still rather jittery as the Rightful King slowly built up his fragile position of power in the kingdom, so although the boarding was a little strained, the two crews tried to be amical.

Teal heard the Osprey crew search the hold as he stood with his crew on the deck: Oh well he tried to get a couple of barrels of brandy through without duty, after all everyone had half-starved families on shore to provide for and a little extra would help. Naturally the best provisions in the realm went to the military and navy to ensure they were equipped to keep the King's peace in the kingdom, or to those who had kept or made their fortunes and were still able to afford the best. These were the customers Teal hoped would buy the brandy for a high price.

Teal was exchanging pleasantries with Captain Lucas on past military services, each subtlety trying to ascertain the other's loyalty and honesty. They had both heard of each other and were about to compare their service histories when a commotion was heard from the small captain's quarters.

"Bloody hell! What are your men doing in there?" Teal barked. He took off for the cabin with Captain Lucas close to heel, ordering his remaining lieutenant on deck to keep charge of the Seafoam crew and call for reinforcements.

Teal rushed into his cabin to see one of the navy men with sword drawn while the lieutenant was holding his arm with a visible gash on it. Teal turned his attention to a terrified Liam who was pressed up against the bunk's farthest corner, his small knife out stretched towards the intruders in his shaky hand, his blue eyes wide in fear.

"What are you doing? Get away from the boy!" Teal ordered the naval men, his stern voice making them lower their weapons.

The lieutenant looked over at his naval captain, grimacing.

"The little sod knifed me when I approached him and asked him why he wasn't on deck."

"Can't you tell he's sick with fever you idiot. You go cornering a delirious sailor like that, what do you expect him to do?" Teal sneered at the youthful lieutenant.

"Put the knife down lad, it's alright. These are the Rightful King's men, no need to be afraid." Teal eased towards the boy taking the knife gently out of his grip.

"Lieutenant is it bad?" Captain Lucas inquired of his injured crewman.

"Not really Sir, just a scratch."

"Good. Go get the ship surgeon," Captain Lucas ordered, looking apprehensively over at the boy "If the lad is contagious we will have to quarantine both ships."

"He's not contagious he just gets the chills, that's all," Teal grunted as he tried to comfort the boy.

The lieutenant rushed out to the ship deck and not so subtly yelled out to fetch the ship surgeon, he was needed on board Seafoam now. Instantly the merchant crew were riled.

"What have you done to our Lucky Liam, you bastard?" Mason hollered as he moved threateningly towards the bloodied lieutenant.

The Osprey's First Lieutenant watched the commotion from his ship's deck and sensed trouble about to break out. He shook his head at the junior officer who rushed up the gang plank, looking very much afraid of the burly sailor that glowered at him from Seafoam's deck.

"Go get the surgeon and send more men to keep order now you've worked the crew up with your outburst," he admonished.

He then grabbed the young man's wounded arm "Has someone been badly injured?"

"No sir, just a fevered boy needs looking at."

The First Lieutenant accompanied some of Osprey's crew down the gang plank to assess the situation. With the ship's surgeon accompanying him, they both headed to the cabin to do their captain's bidding.

Lucas looked at the lad with curiosity; there was something about the boy he found familiar. The boy's head was wet with sweat; long strands of dark hair fell over cheeks flushed with fever. He was a skinny lad (though to be fair who wasn't these days?) clad only in breeches and a thin wool blanket. The odour of sickness and stale sweat hung in the small cabin. The boy was near hyper ventilating as he eyed the naval captain from his corner with fever glazed eyes.

Lucas tried to restore some calm and authority to the scene before him.

"I am Captain Lucas of the Royal Navy and who may you be young lad?" he asked gently.

He glanced over as he heard his First Lieutenant and ship's surgeon arrive, having ensured the extra men were on deck to oversee the worried, restless crew above.

Captain Teal focused on Killian and softly added "Aye lad, tell the good captain who you are, no need to be shy."

The boy took in the group of imposing men surrounding his pathetically defended position at the bunk's head.

"Liam!" he whispered.

The boy then backed up even further into his corner, his eyes suddenly filled with a haunted look, misery etched on his face. He pitifully cried out his name "Liam!"

"Good lad," Teal gently squeezed the youth's hand in encouragement.

" _Liam_!" the boy half sobbed.

"Aye," Captain Teal turned around to face the navy men. "Liam here be my …."his eyes also went wide, though he expertly managed to compose himself.

Lucas felt an instant change in atmosphere as he looked at the two on the bunk and then over to his lieutenant sporting a stunned expression on his face, a man who was normally composed even under the most trying of circumstances.

"Captain Teal I would like to introduce my second in command, First Lieutenant Jones," Lucas indicated the tall man by the cabin door "This is Captain Teal." He finished his introduction noticing the older captain's rather puzzling reaction to Jones.

"Jones?" Teal queried "I served with a Captain Jones once Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Liam Jones at your service Sir," he gave a bow of his head. "My father is indeed Captain Jones." The lieutenant hadn't taken his eyes off the boy and the boy hadn't taken his eyes of the lieutenant.

"I heard it reported Lieutenant Liam Jones died at the Battle of Medusa's Run," Teal asked, suspicion in his tone.

"Aye that he did. He was Captain Reece Jones son. I am the son of Captain Tobias Jones." the officer stated sadly.

Teal took in a deep breath and swore at fickle fate. There could be no doubt, as he could see the striking likeness in the young man before him to his former captain and comrade, but still two years of sheltering the fugitive's son was a hard ruse to break.

"Where are you from Lieutenant?"

"From Ariston Captain," Liam could not take his eyes off the fevered boy as recognition gave way to hope and wonder.

Teal stood up and walked over to the lieutenant. "Your father was a fine captain to serve with Liam and your mother was a delight to know. Do you remember me?"

He spoke the words carefully not daring to believe, to hope after being informed of the older son's possible demise six months ago. It had left Killian in a despair that he often succumbed to, his time up in the rigging now a near weekly ritual again, like when he first joined the ship. It was the cause of his latest round of chills as grief had overwhelmed common sense to shelter from the worst of the weather.

"I vaguely do, were you the boatswain when my father was on the Triumphant?"

"Yes lad I was. Your father and I crossed paths a while back, a few years ago," he looked up at the young officer, staring into the familiar features and blue eyes of his former captain.

"He left me to protect that which was his most precious treasure," Teal eyed Liam meaningfully. "Something I have longed for his eldest son to be reacquainted with these past two years."

Liam could barely think it, let alone daring to say it aloud after almost three years of longing himself. " _Killian_!"

Teal smiled with a mixture of joy and sadness as he put a comforting hand on Liam's shoulder. "Aye Lieutenant your brother ….Killian."

Liam then moved over to Liam/Killian. He hesitated at first, as the boy looked terrified of him.

"Killian it's alright, it is truly your brother Liam," Teal went to the head of the bunk, grabbed a nearby wet cloth and tenderly wiped the boy's face.

"He died! They said he died!" the boy exclaimed. His features contorted with grief as he looked up at the spectre of Liam.

"They were wrong Killian. It was another Liam Jones who died."

It sounded strange to use Killian's real name after so long.

"But I mourned him and performed the rituals! They said he'd died."

Killian buried his face into Teal's shoulder, his fevered brain not really comprehending these unexpected events. The ship surgeon then came over and felt his forehead as Liam dared to reach for his brother's left hand.

Liam Jones was struggling to believe this to be real himself. His little brother thought lost forever, before him in the flesh, albeit malnourished and sweaty flesh, but very much alive.

The ship surgeon looked at Teal with a silent question.

"It's just a chill, he's prone to them from his liking to sit out in the weather in the rigging for too long, says it's to make him a better captain one day," Teal explained ruefully to the surgeon.

"I have just the thing to help him," the ship surgeon said, looking to his captain for permission to take the sick boy over to the Osprey.

Lucas nodded his consent watching the tableau before him with much compassion. Liam went to wrap his brother up in the blanket but Killian was overwhelmed by all the imposing uniformed men, threatening to take him who knows where; away from his only sanctuary of the last few years and so he instinctively cringed away.

"It's alright lad,' Teal affectionately pushed the boy's hair out of his eyes so he could give him a reassuring look.

"Your brother is here for you Killian."


	24. Guardians

**A/N** Once again thank you so much for the follows and reviews. And so here it is, an update where poor young Killi finally gets a hug. (and nobody got hurt in the making of this chapter). 

Emerging back out into the afternoon sunlight, Liam could still not quite believe who he had swaddled up in the threadbare blanket, as he carefully carried Killian over to the Osprey. The ship's surgeon Lieutenant Shelly, Captain Teal and Captain Lucas followed behind him. It had taken a bit of cajoling, to get the young sailor to allow them to bundle him up, but once in his brother's arms he simply went limp from the exertion of trying to put up some sort of a fight.

Seeing their _Liam_ being taken over to the naval ship, the merchant men called out in concern.

"Where are you taking our Lucky Liam?"

"It's alright men," Teal soothed. "The boy is ill and they have the knowhow to help him."

"Will we get him back?" Mason shouted, eying the naval officers with suspicion.

"He was never ours to begin with," Teal said truthfully. He was both joyous and saddened. He had cared for the boy aboard his ship and was relieved that he could _at last_ keep his promise to Tobias, to reunite the missing captain's sons; though it also meant Seafoam was probably about to lose a much respected crew member.

Once the Seafoam crew were reassured and settled again, Captain Lucas offered the time old tradition for ships tethered together at sea, of the "shared table" that evening, if Captain Teal had no urgency to set sail. Mason and Teal looked embarrassed.

"Um, truth be told we don't have much to share Captain, except some fish stew," Mason explained.

Lucas understood, as he looked at their worn clothing and general appearance.

"Aye with famine rampant across much of the land after the damn usurper burnt the crops during his retreat, there is not much anywhere to share. But we are on hearty navy rations and will soon be in port, so please for your service to our King, Captain Jones and my First Lieutenant; I would like to offer our hospitality for the evening meal."

"Aye then we accept Captain and we have much to discuss I think," Teal stated.

Liam and the ship surgeon Oliver Shelly had taken Killian through to the officers' quarters. Shelly had then grabbed the copper bath used by them, out of its storage locker (an allowable luxury, due to the Osprey being assigned to coastal patrols). He requested their cabin boy to fetch warm water from the galley. They then gently bathed Killian in tepid water to help bring down his temperature and give him a much needed wash.

Killian had kept repeating his elder brother's name during his bath in disbelief, constantly clutching for dear life to Liam and even managed to leave a couple of impressive bruises on Liam's arms. The men both noticed the scattering of scars on his young body and the one on his cheek. What the boy had been through these past years, Liam could only guess. Once bathed and dried they placed a now exhausted and sleeping Killian in Liam's cabin. Liam went to cover his brother with thick blankets but Shelly stopped him.

"No Liam he has the chills, you need to let him be able to cool down as he fevers, just a sheet will do. I have a potion I keep for the boys who suffer from this, I'll go fetch it."

Momentarily left alone, Liam had to take a few deep breaths as he looked down at his brother and try to gain some measure of the emotions threatening to engulf him.

Almost three long years, of trying not to think the worst, stubbornly holding on to hope and now suddenly, here was his younger brother, asleep in his bunk. He still remembered Killian as a small, well dressed, nearly 10 year old boy. He now beheld a lanky, long haired, possibly battle scarred youth. It had been Killian's hooded, sea blue eyes, Liam had first recognised when entering Captain Teal's cabin, so much else of his appearance had changed.

Liam's musings were interrupted by the return of Shelly. The surgeon waved a flask that seemed to glow slightly with a golden light.

"Here's some medicinal magic that will have your brother back to himself in no time."

Liam scowled "I don't like the idea of using magic on my little brother Oliver, what else have you got."

"Liam this will work quickly to give him some much needed comfort."

"I don't recall my parents ever resorting to magic potions, so I'd rather not."

"Don't be so stubborn Liam, of course they did."

"I don't think…"

"Liam Jones! How do you think you and your brother have such good teeth?" he lifted Killian's top lip and revealed the lad's white teeth to make his point. "They most certainly have used a bit of magic, like all the parents in our realm who can afford to pay a tooth fairy. Trust me any adult in this realm who hasn't got foul breath and rotting stumps for a smile, had a parent that paid for that privilege. I have three daughters who have the most beguiling smiles, thanks to payments to a tooth fairy for a protection spell of their adult teeth. You should meet my girls one day," he winked to lighten the mood, knowing how obstinate Liam could be at times.

Liam huffed but then nodded his consent for the potion to be administered.

"Seems I'm about to learn about parenting rather suddenly," he said with some trepidation. Liam realised he was now Killian's guardian, having no idea where their father was.

"Well it's not much different to looking after a ship full of sailors and you are a natural at that Liam, besides I have a feeling Killian here can take care of himself in a lot of respects." He had recognised the tell-tale scars made by a cutlass or two on Killian's body.

Once Shelly had applied the potion and was satisfied Killian was responding well to it, he left Liam's cabin to report to the captains and to give the brothers some privacy.

Even before the cabin door had shut Liam felt his tears of relief flow freely down his face, as he tenderly checked Killian's forehead, which was now cool and dry. He longed to thank Captain Teal for looking after Killian and ask all those questions going around in his head, he had seen the affection the man held for his brother, but was reluctant to leave his cabin, in case Killian woke up confused and frightened. Liam settled into the desk chair opposite his bunk and started his vigil over his recuperating brother.

While Liam held his vigil, Teal and Lucas instructed their respective crews in tasks to be undertaken until it was time for the much anticipated evening meal and reprieve from ship duties.

The captains then settled into an easy conversation over a brew on Osprey's deck, where Teal caught up with the lay of the land under their new king's regime. Alas Lucas could divulge little information about what had become of Tobias.

"All I know is that he at least fulfilled a critical part of his mission and helped the military effort immensely to gain the throne for our King," Lucas explained. "We thought both Tobias and Killian were well and truly lost to the war though, when we heard nothing of them this past year."

"Aye and for our part, we thought Liam and Tobias were lost too. But Killian he never gave up hope until we heard Liam may have been killed at Medusa's Run. I warn you now Captain," Teal said sternly, thinking of Killian's moodiness. "That boy has seen too much of the dark side of human nature, as have many youngsters during this bloody war. He is no longer the same brother Liam will remember, that's for certain."

Teal then smiled with affection. "On the whole he's a good lad though, with that sharp mind of his and his clever way with words, sometimes a bit too bloody clever. Like his father and brother, he's a damn fine sailor too."

"And the Lucky Liam part? I can't think of a boy who has lost a mother at birthing and a father who has disappeared without trace _lucky_?" Lucas asked with curiosity.

"Well that be due to his natural instincts for navigation. More than once he has helped get us out of a scuffle through his skills with his sextant and his ability to plot a chart. We've escaped certain doom under impossible odds quite a few times, especially for a ship our size and speed. His father taught him well."

"I kept him mostly on the ship for the first six months, as I was afraid he would be recognised by the militia or the usurpers spies. When I did send him off with the cook to get supplies, he always spent his earnings on parchment, ink and scribing tools. He used up every scrap of parchment I had lying about. So I helped him practice to chart and keep logs. In fact I'll show you something you will probably call me a liar for Captain." Teal got up and indicated Lucas should follow him to Seafoam.

The captains wandered down to the small cabin, where Teal handed over the Jones sextant.

"It's all he has left of his father's," Teal said sadly. "Tobias told me the family estate was lost when Ariston was sacked."

"They burnt the south to weaken the Rightful King's claim to power," Lucas informed Teal. "The north may be relatively unscathed but it will be many years before the south returns to its former naval dominance and prosperity. With many fine naval families like the Jones ruined and dispossessed, it may never," he said with much sadness.

"Well here's some hope for the brothers in restoring their family fortunes," Teal said, as he started to unroll some parchments and then laid them out for Lucas to inspect.

Lucas looked through each chart with a keen eye. They were basic, well plotted charts, though lacked the refined cartography found at the Royal Admiralty of course.

"These are his drawings too?" Lucas picked up a sketch of a seabird on some rough paper. Teal nodded yes.

"Definitely takes after his mother in that respect," Lucas acknowledged, looking at Killian's fine art work.

"So take a look at this one, Captain Lucas of the Royal Navy," Teal beamed with almost fatherly pride.

Lucas studied the map; Like the others it was fair but lacked the finer points of cartography. Then he recognised the configuration of what he saw mapped out.

"Wait is this, no that's impossible! Young Killian navigated through this and drew this chart?"

"Aye. Told you you'd not believe me. I was focused on keeping the ship on course and he on the course I should be steering the ship. Now do you wish to hear the tale?"

"Indeed, but I think it calls for some fine brandy and comfortable chairs. To the Osprey Captain Teal. This is one story I'll need to hear over a decent vintage, as does the lad's brother."

 _Liam's cabin._

Killian slowly opened his eyes, confused by his lucid dream. It had seemed so real, his brother there beside him telling him everything would be all right. "Liam." he whispered with a familiar longing.

He sat up and slowly realised he didn't recognise where he was. He then caught his breath as he came face to face with a very real, slightly older looking Liam, sitting across from him.

The two brothers could only stare at each other, each unable to say anything, so overwhelming was the moment. Then Liam rose and wrapped his arms around Killian, pulling him into a fierce hug.

"Hello little brother," he finally managed to say.

"I think you mean _younger_ brother," Killian managed to croak back.

As evening approached and the brother's had given a brief account of the last few years in their respective lives, Liam insisted Killian go back to sleep. He could see the lad was starting to fight to keep his eyes open as they talked. The First Lieutenant lit a lantern, so if Killian woke, he wouldn't be disorientated. Liam then joined the captains, Shelly and other officers in the mess, knowing Killian was only a few yards away and could call out if he needed his big brother.

After much convivial talk the conversation turned to Killian's future, as it was a matter that needed to be decided before the ships separated. Captain Lucas knew what Liam's thoughts would be on the subject so asked Captain Teal what he would prefer. After all Killian was his crew.

"Aye it will sadden me deeply to lose him," Teal started. "Though, well if the kingdom is to rebuild its resources we will need the like of Li…Killian. He's a good sailor and I have benefited greatly by having him aboard, more than the lad knows. But gentlemen the King's Navy needs him more. He'll be a great navigator one day. That boy needs to go to the academy and be given the opportunity to reach his full potential. He may not be the right age, but Killian is well advanced in skills than what most youngsters are when they start as midshipmen," Teal looked directly at Lucas. "So Captain Lucas, I strongly recommend you get that boy registered on the Osprey as soon as you're able, the kingdom will certainly be better for it."

Lucas nodded at this, the good opinion of the former boatswain of the Triumphant was as high a recommendation any young navy recruit could hope for. He glanced at Liam who sat tensely in his chair, eyes downcast "Aye Captain, indeed I shall," he smiled as he saw his second in command instantly relax with that statement.

As promised, Teal then regaled them with the tale of Seafoam's escape and Killian's hand in its outcome. He answered questions the others had and had a few pressing ones of his own answered in return. Liam soberly told Teal the account of Triumphant's last days and how he came to be on the Osprey after surviving that terrible few days.

After that Liam felt the day's events starting to take a toll on him so rose to bid goodnight, leaving the others to swap nautical tales till the early watch.

As he went to leave the third officer came in off his watch, so Liam went to have a word with him in the corner.

"Lieutenant Tait," Liam addressed the young officer "I trust you have learnt your lesson. To command you need tact and discretion. It does take time to master these skills but I am sure today was a reminder of what can happen if you don't."

"Yes sir. I'm sorry sir I didn't think." The third lieutenant looked remorseful.

"Aye, a rash action can set you on a course you may never be able to come back from. Remember that and ah thank you."

"Thank you, Sir?"

"Aye. If you hadn't have acted like you did, we would never have known my brother was on that ship."

"That boy's your brother? I haven't heard you mention a brother before Sir."

"As I said, discretion is important and these past few years it's been even more so." Liam then dismissed the junior officer, grabbed a spare hammock and returned to that said brother, still sleeping soundly in his cabin.

The next morning Killian was able to get up and say his goodbyes as Captain Teal and the Seafoam crew came to give him their adieus and well wishes in the officers' mess. It was a bitter-sweet affair and being the men they were, kept short to save anyone embarrassing themselves over the sudden departure of their Lucky Liam.

Teal almost ceremoniously handed over Killian's few possessions and the purse of coins he had kept safe for the lad, to his older brother. Liam then suddenly embraced Teal in heartfelt appreciation for what he had done, for both Liam's father and Killian.

"Thank you for giving my brother your name and protection," he said earnestly, with a look that reminded Teal very much of Tobias.

Teal nodded his acknowledgement and then the men silently filed out of the mess to board Seafoam. Teal turned to face Captain Lucas at the gang plank. The two captains said their goodbyes and shook hands in farewell.

"Now if you find Lia ..Killian missing, you just look up. No doubt he'll be in the rigging practicing to be _a hell of a captain_ ," Teal smiled sadly as he finally turned and walked down the gangplank.

Extra rations of brandy for the crew were called for tonight he thought, as he stepped aboard Seafoam and gave the orders to set sail without their Lucky Liam.


	25. Infernal

**A/N So Killian got a hug – but this chapter is about how some of the foundations for "Hook" have been laid in Killian's young life. (He's good with the potential for bad; he's a villain with the potential for good).**

 **If I could rate it T plus I would but there's a wee paragraph of violence so "M" it is.**

The pirate ship Infernal had been reckless. An attack on an equally matched if not superior ship crewed by the King's Navy was suicide. But they had been desperate men caught in an ill wind and when the ships crossed waters there could only be one outcome. Once the cannon fire had ceased, the two ships were grappled, as each side prepared for the inevitable bloody hand to hand combat. The former corsairs were determined to make every last royal navy man meet their doom.

Lieutenant Liam Jones crossed over with his captain and the Osprey's marines on the initial counter-attack to the Infernal, while the other officers held the Osprey's deck. Liam had ordered Killian to go below deck and help with the cannons, where he hoped the boy would be out of harm's way during the inevitable boarding, safely protected by a ship of fully armed sailors. The pirates were relentless in their quest to better and defile the navy ship though and soon a small party of them had boarded to inflict as much mayhem as possible. An enemy cannonball crashed into one of the gun ports and had sent Killian and others racing towards the stern up on to the poop deck, close by to where some of the pirates had started their attack on the navy men.

Abruptly Killian was in the sight of a particularly nasty looking specimen of what was possibly once considered a human being. Scarred and leathered skin and a fearsome array of metal piercings and tattoos adorned the shirtless man's torso, his obvious pleasure in getting to skewer one of the crew members was clear in his malevolent, jagged smile. The man was carrying a large and heavy pike, the blade gleaming and waiting to be bloodied. Killian quickly turned and ran as he heard the man cruelly tease him.

"Come come little morsel, let me gut you and eat your gizzards for tea."

Killian bolted for the mizzenmast, tripping and landing hard next to a dead crewman, he then righted himself clumsily against the mast. His left fist was clenched tight as the man taunted him. His right hand gripped the other side of the mast and held him steady, as he searched around for help, but none was to be had. He looked at the man with wide eyes, as he breathed rapidly with fear.

The man sneered, closed in and then casually leaned on the deadly pike.

"Well boy you are hardly worth the effort of swinging me pike and I shan't be boasting of killing such a tiddler, but say ya prayers to your whore of a mother."

He threw his head back in a guttural laugh, and readied to make sport of his pathetic quarry.

Suddenly the man felt a sharp pain across his abdomen. He gasped as he became aware of his innards pushing out of a large belly wound; he buckled to his knees as his hands clenched his abdomen, the pike falling noisily alongside him. The pirate watched in shock as the boy's face had turned to something else entirely more calculating, no fear on his features at all, the fallen crewman's cutlass in his right hand that he'd concealed behind the mast, now evident and bloody.

"I won't be giving you the chance to say any prayers," Killian hissed as he neatly ran the cutlass across the man's throat.

Liam had returned to the Osprey foredeck and rallied his men to sweep the decks from bow to stern, as they looked for any stray pirates to dispatch; now the Infernal was successfully secured. Any pirate found dead or some resemblance of alive was thrown unceremoniously over the side. When they climbed up towards the mizzenmast Liam and two of the crew stopped dead in their tracks, as they took in the scene before them. A decidedly nasty looking man was kneeling, surprise and pain etched across his ill features, his innards splayed, his naked torso covered in blood from his neck and stomach wounds. Liam took in the sight of his little brother standing stock still, as the youth watched the life drain from this man, his bloodied cutlass still raised and pointed at the almost corpse.

"Killian, are you hurt?" The boy shook his head no.

Liam walked over and gently lowered Killian's outstretched sword arm.

"How in blazes?" said the boatswain, as he took in the scene before him.

Captain Lucas now back on board, climbed up the stairs to the small group when he sighted his second in command up there.

"Killian are you responsible for ….this?" the captain's authoritative voice pulled Killian out of his gruesome vigil.

"Yes Captain, I gutted him exactly how cook taught me. Fast n clean and without getting my uniform messed," the boy said without emotion.

"How did you even manage?"

The boy looked at the naval captain dolefully.

"He made the common tactical error of assessing his enemy by size rather than ability, and his resulting overconfidence cost him dearly."

It was said by rote, some lesson somewhere in Killian's past, about never assuming a smaller vessel could be easily taken.

"Now if you excuse me Captain, I best get a bucket and mop to clean up the mess."

The captain nodded his permission and watched thoughtfully, as the boy headed off to attend to his task. "Liam!" Captain Lucas raised an eyebrow at his visibly paler first lieutenant.

"Well Sirs all I can say is the boy would make a bloody good ship surgeon judging by that cut," the boatswain said gleefully. "Neatest job I've seen for a long while."

He and the other crewman hefted the corsair's remains up and dumped him over the railings to join his former shipmates.

Liam retired at last in the dead of the night, once the day's events had finally been attended to and the fallen sailors given an honourable burial at sea. Captain Lucas had then taken some of the younger officers and a select crew including most of the marines, to sail The Infernal. Lucas had handed over command to Liam on the Osprey while she escorted the newly acquired ship and substantial pirate booty to Port Regal.

Thus the officer's quarters were devoid of some of their usual occupants and blissfully quiet. Liam had commandeered one of the empty cabins for Killian, as he had been sleeping in a hammock in his older brother's cabin since arriving on board Osprey eight days ago.

Sinking wearily on his bunk to remove his outer uniform, Liam thought about his little brother's behaviour. Once prepared for sleep he decided to go over to check on Killian and quietly entered the opposite cabin, his lantern half shielded so he didn't disturb the sleeping lad.

Killian's shoulder length hair was falling over his young face as he slept. Liam gently pushed it away to take in the angelic, peaceful expression of his young brother. No frown, no hint of fear or shock marred the boy's expression and quite frankly that disturbed Liam deeply.

It had become obvious to Liam as the day had worn on that the brother he once knew was not the one sleeping in the bunk before him. Liam had been sixteen when he had taken his first life. It had left him hollow and bereft for days and he had seen it in other young men too, as they first experienced the realities of combat. But Killian had just calmly gutted a man today and without a hint of emotion, simply got on with the business of cleaning up the aftermath. Liam could only conclude it wasn't almost 13 year old Killian's first kill or encounter with the violence of battle.

Killian had shown himself to be a hard worker and over the last week Liam had appraised his abilities through practise sessions with the sword or sextant (both excellent he proudly observed) and by stationing the lad in various roles around the ship with the crew. Killian had simply got on with whatever task was asked of him, never grumbled and always showed competent seamanship in the more familiar tasks. Captain Teal had taught him well and Liam could see the familiar hand of his father in some of Killian's disciplines.

But there were other things Liam hadn't been willing to acknowledge as he reacquainted himself with his brother (though Killian wasn't exactly forthcoming about events of the past three years).

The open, carefree brother who would dazzle you with a cheeky smile or hearten you with a genuine embrace was not there.

The talkative boy who would look anyone in the eye with inquisitiveness and ask impertinent questions that you couldn't help but laugh at and answer was not there.

The boy with his moody outbursts when his passionate nature was getting the better of him was also somehow, regrettably absent.

This brother was quiet, almost withdrawn at times, though at least not to the point where he didn't respond or interact with the crew. Liam had noticed Killian seldom looked up with his striking blue eyes. More often than not, his face was hidden behind his long dark hair.

At first Liam had put it down to shyness or the sudden unfamiliarity with Killian's newly found station on Osprey. But he slowly realised these were deeply ingrained habits of Killian's, the ordeals of life as a fugitive had left a dark mark on Killian's soul.

There were also those incidents, like a few nights back at dinner when the officers were short one serving of bread. Both Oliver and Liam had seen Killian slyly sneak an extra portion off the table. When the shortage was noticed Captain Lucas had laughed and simply said the cook had forgotten they had an extra mouth to feed at the officers table. Liam covered his embarrassment and disappointment by simply giving his portion to the officer who had missed out. On a navy ship stealing extra rations was a very serious offence, at the captain's table it was also an unspeakable act of ingratitude and insubordination.

Killian didn't even flinch or blush but carried on eating as innocent as can be. When Killian retired early as usual (whilst it was Liam's habit to sit up and talk till late) the lieutenant waited five minutes and then excused himself, hoping to confront his brother red handed in their cabin.

"Killian," Liam strode in and saw the boy hastily cover something with a cloth. "Killian Jones what are you doing. Are you dishonouring our name with theft?" Liam couldn't determine if he was more heart broken or angry. He lifted up the cloth to find two ship biscuits and another stale loaf of bread. "Killian!"

Dr Shelly then knocked and quickly entered. "Killian, Liam I thought you may need some help." He was an experienced parent after all and as the ship's surgeon had an inkling what might be going on. Liam looked at him, lost for words then pointed to the stolen haul. "Oh dear, Killian are you trying to keep the ship rats in a finer manner than what they are accustomed to?" He tapped the now hard, almost inedible bread.

Killian looked up at them both, something unreadable crossed his face. "Well answer the doctor Killian, what is the meaning of this, you can't go helping yourself to other people's rightful goods or the navy's."

Liam's steady gaze broke Killian's resolve to be completely silent upon the matter.

"I…I…wanted to have some supplies for when we reached port, in case I have to go search for Captain Teal."

"Why would you have to search for Captain Teal?"

"If Captain Lucas doesn't want me on his ship anymore, I'll have to find some other way to live."

"Killian of course he wants you on the ship."

"But I'm not crew! I'm just your little brother." Killian's face was contorted as he held back his true fear, that he could be easily abandoned again. After all his father had left him behind with strangers so why wouldn't his brother just leave him somewhere if he became too much of a burden.

Liam suddenly realised while the captains and he had discussed Killian's future, the boy had been recovering from the chills and probably not comprehended some of the more vital pieces of that conversation.

"Killian you will be crew on this ship, you will serve beside me. I'm not letting you out of my sight for quite some time, brother." Liam could see something was deeply conflicted in Killian and he knew he couldn't press his brother into telling him what. The boy was as cagey as a dwarf who'd just discovered the mother lode.

The doctor went over to Killian and reassured him. "You know Killian three years ago we found the ship's carpenter Munroe on an island, half-starved and thinking he'd never speak to naught but a few mockful mermaids ever again, while he was shipwrecked for nearly eight months.

When he was rescued he was much like you are now. He used to hoard food too for a period till he realised that the past doesn't necessary repeat in the future and he was safe again. You are safe now Killian, you have to trust your brother to provide for you from now on, no more purloining."

"Aye Killian, I will provide for you and look after you. I promise you that."

"You say that now Liam but you can't promise you won't suddenly abandon me one day too." Killian whispered. Liam had been deeply affected by those words, said with such utter desolation, like some dark premonition.

Sadly Liam had realised during that incident how Killian never spoke of their father unless asked directly by his older brother and always with a hint of something akin to disdain. At least Liam's brotherly banter and affections had not been rejected thus far but the truth was his Killian was buried deep in this solemn, scarred version before him.

Liam tenderly touched his sleeping brother's cheek and said a silent prayer to the sea gods.

"Killian" Liam said under his breath. "Killian, come back to me."

He hoped what he saw wasn't an indication of the course Killian's nature was firmly set on and with an older brother's love and guidance, that sweet young brother wouldn't be lost forever to the ruthless, cold young man he had witnessed on the deck today.


	26. The Admiralty

Port Regal

Captain Lucas kept vigil on the Osprey's quarterdeck. He awaited the runner to return with orders from Commodore Trent, for when he and Lieutenant Jones should attend the Admiralty and give the customary debriefing of the ship's recent voyage. Lucas watched the ceaseless activity of Port Regal as his men busied themselves with the unloading of confiscated goods and the replenishing of supplies. Some had already been dismissed for their shore leave, mainly the wounded that could walk off the ship, the more serious wounded had been carried to one of the infirmaries on shore. The former corsair ship Infernal was safely anchored out in the harbour, with her stolen treasures under heavy guard. She'd be refitted swiftly and incorporated into the King's navy to help replace vessels lost during the war.

Liam strode up the gang plank discussing something with Second Lieutenant Jackson, Liam's quiet, younger brother tagging behind them. The captain watched the dark haired boy with interest, he had mentioned in his message to the commodore that the other Jones boy had been found.

Soon the messenger returned with orders that the commodore was able to receive the captain promptly and to bring both Jones brothers as Admiral Barrington and Beaumont were in attendance as well.

That surprised the captain. Beaumont was a courtier and also part of the King's council. Although not officially a military man he was often advising the King on strategy. His network of information gathering was legendary and there was little in the realm this man did not have a hand in.

Captain Lucas sighed; the man was also a right royal courtier pain in the arse at times, with his wheedling ways and foppish court manners an irritating contrast to the plain speaking royal navy officers.

Liam climbed up the quarter deck stairs to report to his Captain.

"Lieutenant Jones we are requested hence forth to the Admiralty. Make your selves presentable," Lucas indicated to Killian down on the main deck. "We depart within the half hour."

"They requested to see Killian?" Liam asked with concern, as he strode over to his captain.

"Aye, Raphael Beaumont is in attendance and no doubt he wishes to question the lad with regards to your father, amongst other things. Be at ease Lieutenant, it may help put another piece into the puzzle as to your father's whereabouts. The boy may be unaware of the significance of any information he has, but you can guarantee Beaumont will make use of it."

Liam cast a protective eye over to Killian "Aye sir."

The chance to uncover something helpful in discovering their father's fate eased his initial hesitancy.

"Admiral Barrington would like to meet with the lad too, so best find something more appropriate for a young gentleman to wear," the Captain said with humour. As he studied the boy in his simple merchant sailor attire, he concluded Killian looked more like the offspring of a buccaneer than the son of Captain Tobias Jones.

Liam had made his brother scrub up, tie his hair back in a ribbon (as was the fashion for gentlemen) and then don the formal clothes borrowed from one of the younger midshipmen. Once he had got Killian appropriately dressed for his audience with the Admiral, Liam had stood him in front of the captain's looking glass, installed in the great cabin.

Liam was about to make a smart quip when he noticed Killian's shocked reaction. It was the first time Killian had set eyes upon his own countenance for two and a half years. His hand had instantly gone to his face and then he slowly traced the scar on his cheek. His face was narrower and sharper than he remembered. Suddenly Killian felt very self-conscious and even his ears reddened as he blushed deeply. The only time he had really thought about his looks since leaving Ariston was in relation to whether he'd be recognised by the usurper's men or people that would've turned him over to the brutes. Killian stared into the mirror, not at all sure who the now older, worldlier looking youth reflected back was. Sensing his young brother's disquiet Liam patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

"You look like a fine young candidate for an officer's cadetship Killian," he said as he smiled affectionately. Killian simply bit his lip in response.

Killian followed behind his older brother and the Osprey's captain, through corridors decorated in a sumptuousness he had never before witnessed. They had arrived in a carriage to an imposing white stone compound, the main building flanked with large columns and more windows than any structure Killian had seen in his short but eventful life. The place reeked of history and power.

The Osprey delegation was ushered into a room overlooking the main courtyard. Its elegant, tall windows and masculine decor reminded Killian, with an ache in his heart, of his father's study. A large, beautifully carved table dominated the centre of the room, covered with maps and several impressive looking tomes, while the shelfs or side tables displayed various globes and curiosities from who knows where. Rich tapestries also adorned the room but it was the framed charts that Killian fixated on. He was enthralled by it all and had to resist running over to the tantalising parchments on display along the panelled walls, maps of faraway places he was just itching to explore one day.

Introductions were made; Admiral Barrington was a medium built, grey haired man, who carried an air of dignity and authority one would expect of his rank. The advisor Beaumont was garish in comparison to the military men; his courtier's ensemble all bright silks and ruffles. Killian hadn't encountered anyone dressed like that for a very long time; He'd been rubbing shoulders with an entirely different sort of society since hastily leaving Ariston all those moons ago.

There was a cunning and persuasive way to Raphael Beaumont's demeanour. He nearly always got the information out of people he wanted, usually with nothing more than flattery and charm. He had been blessed with a trustworthy countenance of dark eyes and a warm smile and used his features to his advantage when gathering secretes and intelligence.

Beaumont assessed the youth In front of him as the boy's sea blue eyes boldly met his gaze. Raphael was certain the lad was scrutinising and weighing up his character as much as he was the boy's.

So this was Killian Jones, the missing son, who held the key to so many unknown pieces of a complex puzzle. Beaumont would ensure he left with every scrap of information the boy could remember about his father and their travels during the war.

To make the session less intimidating, he had insisted there be refreshments suitable for a young gentleman and the accompanying officers. Once all were settled around the table and served food and drinks, Raphael began his questioning.

Liam was both protective of Killian and curious, as it was the first time he had heard Killian speak openly of his time as a fugitive with their father. There was no doubt the courtier's reputation was well earned, for soon Killian divulged anything the man asked of him, without any of the reticence he had shown towards Liam and his fellow shipmates the past fortnight.

For his part, Killian had decided after seeing his reflection in the mirror, he didn't want to let Liam's obvious pride in him be diminished by Killian behaving like a surly brat. So he had decided to trust these naval men. Killian was perceptive enough to realise that by being co-operative (no matter how painful the memories of his father were to him) it would bode well for his future and possibly Liam's as well.

Seeing his scar in the mirror had reminded Killian of Niamh's words.

He could "continue to be alone or belong to something noble." The conflicting emotions Killian felt for his father (and yes even his brother to a point) for leaving him to fend for himself, with the desire to regain his deeply ingrained heritage of honour and duty, helped Killian find the courage to look his superiors in the eye and let them see this is where he belonged, with the Royal Navy.

Beaumont had asked for Killian to tell them what he could recall of his "travels" with his father, the first year civil war had erupted. Killian recalled being on the sail boat for a while, but usually at night and always close to shore. Then Father felt they should go inland away from the sea (for where else do you hunt a sea captain but in salt water) after an unpleasant incident from which Killian still carried a scar on his arm. His father had taken Killian high into the mountains and occasionally over into the neighbouring kingdoms, meeting and sometimes staying awhile with all sorts of folk.

"I'd never been into the mountains before, it was beautiful, those big forests and snow all around. Father said it was where the best ship masts came from and we needed to ensure the King's Forest was protected." From what Killian didn't know?

"But then when winter arrived we headed across the Great Mires. We were sailing on a large lake, towards another town, heading north by the star's positions I'd say."

"Ah yes, how did you and your father escape from Clarion, Killian? Our reports said the lakeside town was almost under siege and capture was certain, with there no hope of escape."

"Yes it was frightening," Killian admitted "but the soldiers weren't too sure who exactly they were looking for. Then late one day there was a revolt against the local militia, instigated by some of the mountain rebels and in the chaos we were able to escape Sir. We were helped by some travelling jongleurs and a couple of troubadours, who had no allegiance to the usurper."

"They did not think to inspect the troupe? That's an obvious escape if ever there was one Killian."

"They did Sir, but they were looking for a man and his son …..and well we had been skilfully disguised."

"What as Killian? It must have been a damn convincing disguise for you to slip away like that during a siege."

"Well I…well umm I don't really want to say Sir," the boy blushed and lowered his eyes to the floor.

"You must Killian, don't be ashamed lad, we have all done some interesting things in order to survive these past three years." Beaumont said it with humour to help Killian reveal what had been a baffling mystery to the King's spies, on how the tenacious captain had slipped through the enemies lines.

"Well they made Father up to be much older; they stuffed wadding in his clothes and made his hair all grey." So no glamour spell then, thought Beaumont, just good old fashion disguises.

"Surely that wouldn't throw them off the scent though, you are a distinctive looking lad Killian?"

"Well yes that was ummh the thing. Someone pointed out that with my face I could, I could…well with a bit of artistry could umm be disguised as a …."

Killian went suddenly shy and awkward; not wanting to divulge that embarrassing episode at all, as it came rushing back to him. He started to drum his fingers on his leg in agitation.

"What did they disguise you as Killian?" Liam asked softly, he loathed seeing his brother's distress.

Killian sighed and continued to avoid eye contact, _especially_ his big brothers. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Well they disguised me as his um his…. granddaughter."

"They put you in skirts and a bodice?" Raphael queried, trying to keep a straight face imagining such a sight. _Mind you given those long lashes and high cheek bones, it was as plausible as some of my disguises,_ Beaumont decided. "That fooled them Killian?"

Killian nodded "Well they also messed with my hair," his face screwed up; a single ribbon for long locks was manly and practical, but the jongleurs had gone to the extreme with curls and ribbons that day. Killian remembered throwing a tantrum (not his best idea) with his new curls bouncing during each stamp of his foot, making his tormentors snigger even more, until his father sternly reminded him, their lives and everyone else's was at risk if Killian couldn't carry off his disguise.

"They used their stage powders," he continued "and they were bloody ruthless, the bastards completely mutilated my eyebrows. It took two months for them to grow back properly," Killian said in utter disgust. He realised _that_ was the last time he had seen his own reflection and it was not one he was keen to remember or discuss.

Liam started laughing, more at the affronted look on Killian's face than the lengths he'd had to go to in order to survive. "Ah you always did enjoy playing dress up little brother." He jested.

Killian huffed and gave Liam his best _pissed off little brother_ look, not daring a sassy remark to a brother who was senior in rank and currently standing in the admiralty high office with Admiral Barrington no less. He reined in his temper.

"Aye well, let's just say I have an appreciation for the lengths the lasses go through, to look pleasing to our eyes," Killian said with a grimace.

He had also learnt during that embarrassing four days, just how lascivious menfolk could be towards the women. Once he'd had been finally able to shed his disguise, he had solemnly sworn to himself and a few of his favourite sea deities, never, ever would he be lewd or make innuendos towards a female, he would always act the perfect gentleman.

Raphael decided to restore Killian's affronted masculine pride with a good old retelling of a naval victory.

He guided Killian over to a table with two types of model ships arranged outside a harbour, it looked vaguely familiar then Killian realised what he was looking at. He noted there were no merchant ships in the tableau before him.

"I hear you have a talent for navigation Killian and your brother certainly has your father's talent for tactics. What do you make of this?

"It is a sea battle Sir."

Aye, one of our grandest sea battles. This is the one that turned the tide against the usurper cur and helped us on to victory. Would you like us to tell you the tale of The Battle of Slate Harbour?

"There would be no point Sir"

"Why is that Killian? Do you not like a good rousing tale of the Royal Navy in one of its finest hours?" Beaumont was slightly taken aback the boy was not interested. He noticed the boy's fingers on his right hand had started to drum against his thigh again.

"I mean Sir there is no need to tell me of it because I was there Sir. Our ship was in harbour at the time." Killian picked up a model boat and placed it by the seawall in the harbour.

Liam and Captain Lucas widened their eyes in shock upon hearing Killian's words. Captain Teal hadn't mentioned they were in harbour at the time.

"You were? Well lad you got to witness one of the navy's most decisive battles, it will be written about for years to come in song and prose, celebrated throughout the kingdom." Beaumont enthused.

Killian looked distinctly unmoved with that statement. "Yes Sir." He said quietly.

Liam shuddered at the thought his brother had been there. The Royal Court would call it a triumph and glorify the deeds of the victors, but any sensible military man knew it for what it was. Wholesale slaughter for the warring sides not to mention the civilian population caught in the middle. It had been a gruelling battle both on land and on sea and a close won battle at that for the Rightful King. Hearing his little brother had been in the thick of it, Liam thought it was no wonder Killian was so changed from his innocent little brother.

Sensing Killian's disquiet Beaumont changed the subject, he was curious as to what this clever youngster envisioned for himself. "What ambitions do you have for your future Killian?"

Killian looked away from the model battle and boldly walked over to a parchment on the centre table. He picked up the map that showed a coastline that had not been completely charted and looked at the men before him, blue eyes blazing with determination.

"Well Sir, I mean to be the finest navigator this kingdom and all the known kingdoms have ever had. I wish to chart the unknown, explore new lands and bring much honour to the Admiralty and my family name Sir."

No one in that room doubted Killian's sincerity or his ability to achieve such a goal.


	27. Shore leave

**A/N Once again thanks for the reviews and follows.**

I don't own OUAT so I'll just have to continue in my own little Storybrooke world.

 _Shore leave_

There had been no hesitation from Commodore Trent or Admiral Barrington to have the young son of Tobias Jones assigned to Osprey, once her captain put forward his proposal to grant the lad the rank of midshipman. It was the least they could do for their missing comrade and highly regarded naval officer. Captain Lucas would assess the boy's suitability for the naval academy and more importantly, those potentially exceptional navigation skills the senior officers had been informed of. His Majesty was eager to expand his kingdom in the near future, especially into the uncharted southern territories where new riches were hopefully to be found.

Lieutenant Jones was then dismissed along with the newest naval recruit and ordered to return to the ship, settle any unfinished business and assign his duties to the second lieutenant by late afternoon. The brothers had been granted shore leave until Osprey was ready to set sail on the evening tide, three days hence. Killian returned his borrowed clothes, was procured a royal naval uniform to wear, assigned a berth amongst the other midshipmen and officially welcomed into their ranks.

By late afternoon he found himself on his first excursion along the busy cobbled streets of Port Regal. As he walked alongside his big brother taking in the sights of the kingdom's only metropolis, Killian pondered on how once again his life had undergone such a sudden change of course.

Liam walked Killian to a pleasant bay not far from the port. It was a favourite residential area with naval captains and other high ranking sea fairing citizens of Port Regal. With the blue sea sparkling in the late sun and the white stone buildings common to the region, bathed in warm light, it looked every inch the respectable neighbourhood it was.

Liam noticed how Killian still put his head down when people approached them but could also see that curiosity and exhilaration made Killian less furtive, he almost sported his dimpled grin, almost. That was until they were approached by two young ladies of Liam's acquaintance. Liam swapped the usual cordial pleasantries with the women and then turned to Killian.

"Ladies this is my li… younger brother," Liam said cheerfully. It felt so good to be able to say that, to know Killian was once again a tangible part of his life. He watched with mixed emotions as his brother acted uncharacteristically shy and barely manage a courteous introduction to the women.

For Killian's part, something that would normally be intimidating to most, like talking to senior naval officers was easy. You just stood up straight, eyes to the front and answered their questions and included a "Sir" in the reply. Making polite conversation with ladies was something he hadn't the faintest idea how to engage in anymore. It hadn't been a skill he needed when facing the sharp end of a corsair's cutlass or whilst running errands to various dockside merchants for his former captain. His skills in engaging with strangers these days, was of a completely different class, to what was deemed acceptable in genteel society.

Liam bid his adieus to the ladies and took Killian into a fetching, three storey stone building. He gave his greetings to the couple who looked after its residents. Once again he introduced his little brother, who was much more articulate this time, feeling more in his element around a woman who was similar to Mrs Bristol in her mannerisms.

Liam's lodgings were in the spacious, well-lit loft. The décor seemed slightly familiar to Killian as he wandered through the apartment. He stepped out onto the balcony, which over looked the beautiful tree lined square the rooms faced out on.

"This is yours?" Killian asked, taking in the relative luxury of the apartment compared to his former home, a narrow bunk on Seafoam. Liam had seemingly prospered during their separation.

"Aye, well it's the Jones home actually. This was Father's residence in Port Regal."

Liam saw Killian's face scowl at the mention of their father. "It was bought by Father after he returned to sea, when you were around six from what I can gather."

"He never mentioned it." Killian stated.

"No. I guess we always assumed he stayed on his ship when here so it never got mentioned. But here you have it," Liam said, as he opened his arms out and smiled, trying to lighten the mood "the Jones's Legacy."

The youth's face briefly turned dark. Liam was learning fast, talking about their father was a volatile subject for young Killian.

"What about the estate and lands in Ariston. Do we still have those?" Killian asked with trepidation.

"No Killian, near everything was destroyed and pillaged. I don't care to go back and try to reclaim the land. Do you?"

Killian shook his head adamantly no.

"So why didn't _he_ just leave me here, instead of dragging me all over the countryside?" Killian asked bitterly. The question had come out of nowhere and Killian's tone surprised Liam.

"It was not safe here Killian, the usurper's spies would have certainly captured you."

Liam hoped that answer would suffice for his brother.

The truth was nobody thought of it as Captain Jones's residence but had assumed it was the house of a widowed, minor noble woman with whom their father had formed a close relationship with, some six years ago. It was she who sought out Liam, once the Rightful King's reign was secured and informed him of his father's property. If it was as she had heard, that all was lost in Ariston, she wanted to ensure Tobias's sons at least had this small legacy.

Liam had been shocked and a little betrayed at first for his mother's sake. Then as he got to know Mrs Soannes, as they met to discuss the pragmatic matters of the apartment, he found her to be an intelligent and astute woman, handsome in countenance, elegant in manners and as well read as his father. In her company Liam had also found someone who understood the tyranny of not knowing if one should be grieving for a loved one whose whereabouts were a mystery, or if one should hold off their grief in the hope the person would return. Mrs Soannes had three years of holding off without any news and had decided she needed reluctantly to move on. She wished to return to her family estates back in the north. Liam was no innocent in the ways of relationships between men and women, so could not be angry with his father for seeking such company, albeit discreetly, when in Port Regal. Liam knew that his father had endured many lonely nights as a widower and through it all, Tobias had always been devoted both to his wife's memory and to his two sons.

Liam also decided Killian didn't need to know any of this at present, as it was more fuel to that rage he could detect burning under his brother's seemingly indifferent feelings about his sire.

"So is this where you live now, here?" Killian's question interrupted Liam's musings.

"As will you Killian, when you are not at sea or the naval academy."

Liam hoped his brother would be deemed suitable to pursue his ambition of becoming a royal navigator. The lad was a little, well, rough around the edges, maybe even a bit feral at present. But Liam was sure he could return Killian back to his gentleman's upbringing, now the threat of the Usurper King and his henchmen were well and truly a thing of the past and Kilian was no longer looking over his shoulder in fear of capture.

"It would make Father pleased, to know his two sons have come through this civil war with true Jones tenacity and honour Killian , he would be proud of us." Liam smiled warmly.

And suddenly just like that, the tinder was lit. That one thing that hadn't been discussed but edged around carefully. A whirlpool of misery, destined to destroy anything that ventured to close to its dark centre, not quick enough to skirt safely around the peripheries.

"Proud! Why should I care if he's proud of me?" Killian snapped at his older brother.

"Killian you know Father would be. Why wouldn't he be proud of you?"

"You think he actually gives a damn about me?" Killian stormed off back into the main room.

"Killian!"

"He left me Liam! He just left me to those damn curs, to my fate, saving his own skin. He lied to me, telling me how we were going to sail the different realms when all we did was live like criminals on the run, a fugitive dragging me into every bloody type of danger."

"Killian!" Liam moved towards his brother.

"He never really loved me; he never forgave me for our mother's death….. it was all lies or he would never have just…. just … bloody well abandoned me."

Liam was almost struck speechless at the vehemence in Killian's young voice.

Killian's pained blue eyes looked up at him, mouth twisted, fists clenched in rage.

"Killian you know that's not how it was, he loved you very much. There is much you don't understand here, when you are older….." Liam moved to place a comforting arm on Killian but he pushed it angrily away.

Don't, don't you dare treat me like that. I've learnt to survive Liam, I've seen and done things that would make a straight laced prig like you blush for a week, so don't treat me like a fucking stupid child. I understand perfectly." Killian was near screaming the words at his older brother.

Liam tried grabbing Killian again but he shoved back at Liam. Shocked at Killian's vitriol, Liam reacted as he would to a sailor displaying such blatant insubordination and slapped Killian across the cheek, as he tried to snap him out of his mounting hysteria.

His younger brother's stunned look and reddening cheek filled Liam with sudden remorse, lurching forward and using his mass to pin Killian's arms down in a bear hug he spoke softly, calmly into the youngster's ear.

Killian that's not what I meant. Killian I meant..." Liam sighed in frustration, not sure how he could help his brother out of this darkness.

"Killian our father was in the Rightful King's most trusted and highest military circles, he had a duty that even I am not privy to know. He was undertaking a mission vital to the realm's peace and could not risk being caught by the enemy. Captain Teal knew that Killian, that's why he readily took you in to help our father do his duty. You must understand that with a whole kingdom at stake he had no choice but to flee. He knew he had to spare you and Captain Teal's crew from the militia's wrath if they suspected your true identities." Liam felt Killian feebly try to fight free of his embrace.

"He…he chose duty over me and he just left me." the boy sagged against Liam's chest.

"He left you in the safest hands he could Killian." Liam said in a soothing voice.

Liam felt Killian's body begin to shake as he finally, after two long years of bitterness, released his unshed tears of grief and abandonment, messily into his older brother's jacket.

As Liam held Killian tightly and comforted his younger brother he pondered on how different their worlds had been growing up. The eldest had known a peaceful content existence, security and the love of both parents for nine years. Aside from the grief and missing a much loved parent, his next ten had been reasonably secure, as he assuredly forged his way into the world. The youngest Jones had all that brutally taken from him before he had even lived through his first decade.

Fate had forged their differences as much as their similarities in their brotherhood.

"Promise me, promise you won't leave me too," Killian whimpered between snivels. It was a ridiculous, childish promise to demand, he knew that, especially given the Jones history of naval service, but some part deep in his soul just needed to ask it of his (probably) only living relative.

"I will always be here for you little brother." Liam whispered letting his own tears fall down his face as they stood in their missing father's abode. "Always."


	28. Oh Brother

A/N: Thank you lovely followers, reviewers and favs. Time for a little less angst and to explore how a young lad becomes an officer and a gentleman.

 _Storybrooke_

Emma walked towards the sheriff's office in the cool morning air, her coffee in one hand and phone in the other. It just didn't feel right somehow, without a certain pirate swaggering by her side, so she couldn't resist sending off a txt wishing Killian a good morning wherever he was "lurking".

She'd decided to start early at the office for what she hoped would be a day that passed quickly.

At 8.30 she got her first phone call from a very concerned senior citizen, a certain Mrs Hubbard.

"Really," Emma snorted accidently out loud, which did not amuse said caller. It had resulted in a rather lengthy lecture about respecting your elders, before the woman finally got on with the purpose of her call.

She wanted to report a nefarious, swarthy looking tramp loitering in the bay below her cliff side home. The man had recklessly lit a fire, no doubt without a permit. He had been blatantly drinking in a public place and _now…..now_ he was shamelessly skinny dipping in the cove without any thought to her or her poor dog's nerves. She was scandalised and demanded something be done.

Who was Emma to argue with a _concerned senior citizen_ and so she diligently headed for the sheriff's truck. She took an extra set of handcuffs just to be on the safe side, having a strong instinct this "perp' could easily escape the confines of any restraints. _Pirate!_

While driving out to Mrs Hubbard's address she also said a silent plea that the "vagrant" was by some miracle or magic, still skinny dipping by the time she arrived out there to apprehend him.

 _Port Regal_

Killian became aware of different noises to what he was normally used to in the early hours of the morning. These were the noises of people starting a new day on land, not the familiar noises of ports or ships; the absence of creaking wood or waves being sloshed against a hull felt strange to him. He also found himself awake in a ridiculously soft, clean and comfortable bed. It had been almost three years since he'd last slumbered in such luxuriance and was in no hurry to leave it.

Killian finally sat up and looked around the bedroom, now _his_ room, in the dawn light. He saw artworks on the walls and recognised them as his mother's paintings or sketches. There were also recognisable touches of his father's masculine tastes to the room's decor. He bit his lip as he thought through the implications of being once again surrounded by the domestic familial possessions of a family he had felt utterly severed from for the last two years. It was a bit overwhelming, so Killian puffed out his breath and flopped back onto the pillows, pulling the coverlet over his head in retreat.

Liam also awoke at dawn and thought about what he needed to do as he prepared for the day ahead. Most of it focused around settling Killian into his new life. Liam went over their talks the night before. Once Killian had been able to compose himself, he had busied himself with preparing a simple evening meal from the provisions Liam had procured earlier that afternoon, saying it was something he had often been tasked to help with on Seafoam.

The brothers had then got onto the subject of the battle at Slate Harbour over supper. Neither could believe they were but a few leagues away from each other during that pivotal day. Liam was in awe of how calm Killian was as he divulged the tale of how he acquired his cheek scar and his near escape from the town. The angry youngster from a few hours before was no longer evident in the brother seated opposite Liam (and by the gods he was still so young in years, but so much much older than Liam was at that age). When Killian started showing signs of being tired, Liam helped him to what would become his room and placed Killian's travel sack containing his few worldly possessions in the corner. After some more reassurances and goodnights Liam then retreated with the family sextant out into the parlour. He'd sat in quiet contemplation for a few hours, staring at the familiar ornate instrument and mulled over his new role in life. He was now both a guardian and provider as well as the now (in all probability) most senior Jones in their small family. Much rested on his shoulders and he was grateful that he had indeed inherited his father's broad shoulders to carry out his new family and fraternal duties.

Once Killian was up and dressed in his informal naval uniform Liam took him out to explore the Port Regal he was most familiar with. Fresh pastries were a common enough breakfast fare for most, but to a boy use to stews, bread and hardtack, having something both so sweet and light was a rare treat. Killian had long forgotten that this had once been a regular delicacy for him in Ariston.

After they completed some errands Liam decided it was time for luncheon and was taking Killian towards his favourite establishment. They ran into some of Osprey's warrant officers and another ship's crew jauntily heading towards a tavern opposite them. The men gave greetings to their second in command and their newest recruit. One then winked at Killian and asked if he'd be joining the men. Liam laughed good-naturedly and then found himself suddenly having to grab his brother as Killian eagerly headed in that direction.

"Whoa where do you think you are going little brother?"

"With the others," Killian said as he looked up at his brother whose facial expression clearly indicated that wasn't going to be. "What? Father used to take me to places like that all the time when we were travelling."

Liam raised his eyebrows. "I doubt that Killian."

"Liam we slept in taverns and ate in places a bilge rat wouldn't want to stay in, as I keep saying I'm not some sheltered, naïve, poncey kid anymore."

"Killian that's not a traveller's tavern, that's a brothel." Liam said with some amusement.

"A what? Oh um right." He blushed at his badly timed act of naivety "best not go in there then, must be bloody scary places from what I can gather," he mumbled.

"Scary?"

"Yeah Bryson said the best ones make you scream at the top of your lungs and beg for mercy. Can't imagine why anyone would want to pay doubloons to put themselves through that."

Liam gave a hearty laugh and slapped Killian on the back, it was good to know that despite his brother having experienced the struggles of survival, war and violence he still had some aspects of total innocence left in his youth. No doubt Liam could thank the no nonsense Captain Teal for that.

"This way Killian, you are a Jones, an officer (almost) and a gentleman, so we go where the officers go, to the White Swan." Liam led him away from the other men to a more refined way of spending shore leave.

The White Swan was a bright, airy establishment with a large atrium surrounded by two tiers of verandas, where the diners could sit and relax, either in intimate dining areas or the more communal grand dining terrace. It was a favourite amongst the royal naval officers even during the kingdom's recent austere times.

Abruptly young Killian went from eating ship rations on a rough wooden bench to sitting at a finely laid table with its bewildering array of settings. He struggled at first, always wanting to grab the food with his hands or used only the spoon (stews had figured prominently in his life at sea). Liam patiently helped him remember his gentlemanly ways and even let him have a small glass of light red wine to celebrate his new rank as a midshipman. As he watched his brother try to remaster the lost art of fine dining, Liam decided it might be safe to broach the subject of Killian's future again.

"Do you miss Captain Teal and the Seafoam crew Killian?" he asked. Killian had seemed very at home with the merchant sailors.

"Aye I do," he bit his lip not wanting to appear ungrateful or disloyal "I do miss them, but I wouldn't want to be a merchant sailor for the rest of my life. I do want to be in the royal navy, though I can't understand why we have to wear such bloody daft hats," he said with a pout.

Liam smiled. "So Killian in a year's time you will be able to attend the Royal Naval Academy. Is that what you want to do?"

Killian frowned "How…..how will we be able to afford it Liam?

"I have the means Killian."

"But how. We lost nearly everything, didn't we?"

"Aye almost, but I earn a good living and well I managed to find some of the family silver Father and I buried before the…..well before the estate was looted and burned." Liam had gently told Killian the sobering account of what he had seen upon his brief return to Ariston a few months ago.

"So we have to sell the only things we have left of Ariston?" Killian asked with sadness in his voice.

He realised they no longer had any likeness left of their mother (or father) and few momentoes of their former home.

"I didn't think you were that attached to our grandmother's silver flower vases?" Liam said to lighten the mood.

"Eeww! No definitely not," Killian made a comical face of horror at the ostentatious monstrosities. "That's a family heirloom that won't impress any lady to give her hand in marriage that's for sure; more likely scare her off with our bad taste."

He saw Liam's face twitch.

"Liam, were you going to use the funds for something else. _Is_ there a lady in your life? Are…..are you courting?

 _Perceptive little blighter_ Liam mused.

"Aye there may be Killian, but a naval sailor's life is an uncertain thing and I'd like to be more advanced in my career before I settle down, at least a captain."

"Oh!"

Killian wondered if he hindered that in some way for Liam. Would Liam be best rid of him for an opportunity to start his own family, without a little brother in tow?

Liam could read Killian's face as easily as an open book so sought to reassure him once again.

"Killian you realise that if the war had not started you would have ended up at the academy anyway. We may not have a family fortune anymore but we have connections still, Father's reputation will guarantee you a commission."

"No! I don't want that. I want to get there on my own merit, not his," Killian said with a hint of bitterness, not aware of how his father's reputation had already helped him.

Liam sighed. He knew it was pointless to try and change his brother's mind at the moment. No amount of rationalising was going to heal that sore point. Hopefully time would heal its sting.

Not wanting to see Killian fall into one of his moods Liam changed tack.

"We need to get you clothes little brother, so how about we spend the afternoon getting you some new attire?"

Killian became conscious of his appearance. He had noticed they were not able to be as elaborately dressed as some of the other patrons and fortunately having naval uniforms hid the disparity.

He then smiled his rarely seen, gorgeous dimpled smile at the thought of having new clothes.

"I'd like that very much." He had been living in mostly hand me downs from some of the other ship boys since aboard the Osprey, feeling very much the poor relation.

 _Dress Code_

Liam smiled as he viewed himself in his newly tailored jacket that he had ordered last time in port, a dark green with a subtle stripe through it. It highlighted his handsome features, broad shoulders and trim waist but as typical with Liam, it was also a clean, simple cut and practical. He could dress it up or down with his existing wardrobe as the occasion required.

Killian had been kitted out with the necessary layers of clothing he'd need on the open seas as well as some clothes for when on shore leave. He then went exploring for a jacket and vests amongst the available items for younger gentlemen.

When he emerged from the back room sporting his new clothes Liam couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Killian! Beneath all that salt crust you are still our little Killy aren't you?"

Killian protruded his bottom lip out. "What do you mean? Someone with impeccable taste, brother."

Liam shook his head in amusement. He had grown up with his mother and her artistic friends often cavorting around the manor during their sessions in exotic clothes and fantastical getups. His father had retreated (hid more like it) to the study during these times if home, to content himself with reading the latest fashionable author of witty social satire or some tome on military history. Liam started hiding out with him too, when she tried to entice her son to join her. But had Killian been able to experience these soirees, Liam was certain he would've eagerly donned an exotic turban and silks, totally in his element amongst his mother and her friends.

The boy hadn't been able to resist picking out a richly embroidered copper coloured silk waistcoat and lavish dark jacket with more than a few embellishments on its sleeves and lapels. It did make him look a rather startling, handsome young man, with his long hair tied back in a matching copper ribbon. He always did have a touch of the theatrical. Liam though, knew what his brother needed right now was hard wearing, well made clothes.

"And where do you think you will be wearing that little brother?" he queried.

"Well I must get shore leave sometime."

"Yes but you need practical clothes Killian and you will outgrow these before you know it."

Liam had decided a week ago there was a lot more to being a parent, even in his older brother sense than he had realised. So Killian reluctantly left with a sensible dark dress coat, though at least it sported brass buttons, along with several plain waistcoats to go with his new shirts.

As they left Liam noticed Killian hadn't quite done his shirt up or donned his cravat.

"Killian, do up your shirt buttons."

Killian pouted "I don't want to."

You have a naval rank now Killian, no need to be showing off your luxuriant chest hair like a common sailor anymore brother," Liam teased him.

"But I've finally got a couple." Killian proudly pointed to two small, almost invisible chest hairs.

Liam raised his eyebrows, came to a standstill and then felt his stomach drop in mortification as he suddenly realised he'd probably have to give Killian "that talk' unless Captain Teal had spared him from the task. He blushed at the mere thought of it, remembering how his usually unflappable, confident father had stumbled his way through it awkwardly when Liam was on the cusp of manhood himself, despite their being from a rural estate where some of the more delicate points were no mystery at all.

"Right well," he stammered "just till we return to the ship Killian, then it is back to proper navy attire." He didn't want to dash that proud look on Killian's face; the boy had suffered much deprivation over the last few years so that was probably all he'd ever grow anyway. Liam rubbed his hand over his jaw. Yes, being a parent by proxy was not easy at all.

Walking down the street with their packages, Liam met some fellow lieutenants who were heading to a popular tavern for some entertainment. It was renowned for its musicians so he saw an opportunity to treat his brother further with good music and supper in the respectable place. The late afternoon entertainment wasn't a disappointment and soon the group of young officers were called upon to show their musical abilities to the crowd, which was one of the reasons they liked frequenting the place.

During a lull Killian dared to ask if he may borrow a musician's spare mandolin he had noticed leaning against a wall, suddenly feeling the itch in his fingers to play again.

It had been ages since he played but Killian braved the expected rustiness and was soon softly humming a ballad as he remembered the thrum of the strings beneath his nimble fingers. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he saw Liam look down and nod to him in encouragement. So he started to play a tune they both knew well. He had forgotten Liam's clear singing voice and was pleased to hear it again. Killian's voice was prone to turning into a squeak at the most unpredictable times, so he contently hummed in harmony to Liam's fine tenor.

It was the first time in over three years the brothers felt a sense of normality, though their lands and fortune were gone, their father's fate unknown, they at least had each other and a future to look forward to.

Later that evening Killian carefully unwrapped the clothes parcel and placed his new items in a chest of draws. He gasped as he unexpectedly pulled out the beautiful copper silk waistcoat. A note fell to the floor written in Liam's handwriting.

" _Something for your coming birth date and the ones I've missed. Love Always Your Big Brother_."


	29. Gentlemenly Behaviour

**A/N One take on how a boy who lost his mother and was abandoned when young might have learnt how to be so at home, waltzing at a royal ball. More fluff.**

It all started out as mirth and merry making as the young lieutenants rode in a closed carriage to "a night you will never forget Killian". Killian was happy to follow the older lieutenants lead, perhaps a tavern in the countryside was what they had planned, as the carriage undertook a longer journey than normal. He didn't care, they had a full days leave to enjoy whatever good spirits the men had in mind.

He was just glad to have the distraction to occupy his mind on this date, especially with Liam currently away at sea. When they blind folded him and led him up three long flights of narrow stairs he started to get suspicious. When the cloying smell of perfumes and distinctly feminine giggling hit his senses, Killian got rather apprehensive.

"Happy Birthday Killian, tonight your coming of age is on us, you can thank us all by regaling us with the details later."

They laughed and abandoned him on the spot. He stood stock still for a moment, hearing rustling approaching him and wait…how did they know it was his birth date, a secrete he guarded close to his chest.

" _Dammit Antonio, I am so going to give you bloody what_ _for,_ " Killian cursed silently.

"Welcome Lieutenant," a soft voice said. Delicate hands removed his blindfold, to reveal a woman maybe in her mid-twenties.

"My, they never said you were so handsome," she smiled warmly.

The woman was dressed in fine silks of a chartreuse green, her hair intricately woven into nutmeg ringlets. She was quite simply a vision of all that was feminine beauty. Everything about her was luxury and refinement and Killian noticed the expensive gold jewellery that adorned her ears and throat. His surroundings were also rather opulent. Not a simple country tavern at all then.

" _Oh bloody hell!"_

Killian blushed then gulped and tried to breath.

Liam was going to kill him….if he didn't die of embarrassment first, for even being in such an establishment.

"I ah I….. I um," he looked down at the floor, unsure what to say. This was not the simple, rustic entertainment he had looked forward to.

"My name is Annabelle, Lieutenant. I am a close friend of Antonio's. He asked if I'd spend a few hours with you this evening Killian, to help you celebrate tonight. Come, let me get you something to drink," she smiled demurely and led him over to a table where she handed him a goblet of red wine.

Killian took a long sip, hoping his mind would engage sooner rather than later, as he thought about his unexpected predicament. What exactly it entailed he wasn't sure, well he was pretty sure what it was meant to be, but he was hesitant to ask directly, he didn't want to offend the lady or make a complete arse of himself.

After what seemed an agonising long time, she spoke softly again "Lieutenant?"

Annabelle took his quiet demeanour for the usual angst a young man would feel in such company.

"Don't be shy Killian, I promise you a pleasant evening," She smiled, showing a perfect set of teeth hidden by her sumptuous lips.

She took his hand (she noticed it was shaking) and led him over to one of the comfortable settees scattered around the salon. Annabelle then expertly removed his simple black dress jacket. She found that the guests often became more relaxed, once divested of the more formal parts of their attire.

"Let me get you out of this stuffy getup, no need for formality here," she pulled his cravat free while simultaneously running her hand down Killian's white waistcoat. She couldn't resist teasing the lieutenant; he was every bit the shy, obviously inexperienced officer Antonio had hinted at, judging by the mix of fear and bewilderment on his face. It was rather refreshing.

"Just relax Killian and let's enjoy each other's company." Antonio had said his younger companion was both intelligent and witty. Annabelle was not exactly convinced so far, that he was either.

Killian took a deep breath as his body started to response. " _Bloody hell I surely must have drunk to much rum, passed out and started hallucinating,"_ he thought. Perfume swirled around him as he found his vest being half unbuttoned. It was definitely real. On his sixteenth birthing date he would… " _What? What will you do Killian?"_

Suddenly stark reality hit him " _No, not on my birthing date."_

"No! Killian exclaimed as he pushed the woman away. "My apologies Miss but no I ..I cannot"

"Excuse me," Annabelle looked perplexed "Cannot what!?"

Her voice rose slightly in pitch.

"I mean no offence but I will not have a dalliance with you Miss I…." damn if he didn't blush again and found himself unable to say what it was he had barely admitted to himself.

"Your friends have gone through a lot of trouble to arrange this evening and you are rebuffing me?"

You are seriously trying to refuse my company!" she exclaimed, not quite believing what she was hearing.

Killian couldn't understand why she would be so incensed. He stood up and found his courage, firmly looked her in the eye and sharply said "I am sorry Miss, I do not wish to have carnal activities tonight, I mean no slight by it."

She looked stunned. Killian frowned; perhaps she would understand a more sailor like approach. "I don't require a whore."

Annabelle was completely taken aback. Well _this_ had never happened before.

"Do you know who I am _boy_?" She rose to her feet, a distinct haughtiness in her voice.

"No," Killian raised his eyebrow in bewilderment "and I do not wish to offend you, now please just let me be on my way."

"Offend!" she exclaimed "Why you little upstart! You, a wet behind the ears boy, turning down my company and dare calling me a …

Several other people entered the room at that moment, drawn by the raised voices.

"Annabelle what is going on here?"

An older woman was looking at them with interest.

Killian looked down at the floor.

" _Oh well done Killian. Create an even bigger scene you stupid, pathetic boy,"_ he admonished himself.

Reaching down for his jacket and cravat Killian finally looked back up and assessed the assembled people before him. There was a statuesque, ebony skinned man, who looked like he wouldn't take nonsense from anyone, even the High Admiral himself. Another young woman with beautiful skin the colour of exotic spices and dark almond shaped eyes stood behind the handsome, immaculately dressed woman, who was obviously the proprietress. She sported a wry smile at Killian and Annabelle.

"Sorry Madame, I was showing this rather ill-mannered navy brat out." Annabelle motioned for the man, a bodyguard of sorts Killian suspected, to seize him.

Madame rose her hand "Wait Caleb, this young man is a guest here, I presume."

"My dear what is your name?"

"Lieutenant Jones, Madame. _"_

" _Why did I just give her my real name, bloody idiot_?"

"Now Lieutenant Jones is there a problem?" she asked with sincerity.

"I am simply not interested in what your establishment has to offer Madame," he said, hoping his voice sounded firm.

"Perhaps you would prefer the company of someone more exotic," Madame teased. She had noticed the appreciative look towards her assistant Sophia. Killian blushed… _again_.

He managed to look her in the eye (I've faced sword wielding corsairs and militia for Poseidon's sake) and adjusted his stance to one befitting his officer's rank.

"No Madame, I am simply not inclined to partake of your brothel's services tonight."

There was a universal sharp intake of breathe all round. " _Oh crap_ ," Killian thought.

"Brothel, this is _not_ a brothel young man. What did you think _was_ on offer here?"

Killian momentarily found some more courage and lifted his eyebrow in a mock "really" as he looked at Annabelle and then the items of clothing in his hands.

Madame laughed at that, a genuine laugh. " _Touché young man,"_ she thought.

"Do you know what establishment you _are_ in Lieutenant?"

Uh, well actually, no. I was bought here in a closed coach."

( _I am so going to get you for this Antonio_ ). "Nor do I care, I'll just be on my way and we can forget I was ever here." He eyed the man warily, wondering if he might have to fight his way out.

Madame put her hand on his shoulder and halted his departure.

"This is the Marble Palace young man and you are 3 leagues from town. You are more eager to get the night's air on a long, lonely walk back into Port Regal rather than enjoy our establishment?"

Oh! Killian suddenly felt rather deflated, very much stranded and also a little in shock. He had heard of the Marble Palace, renowned for its artisans and theatre, dances and fine dining. It was famous for its extravagance and luxury. He had wanted to see it, who hadn't dreamed of being amongst the nobility and notoriety for a night.

And he had just made a right prig of himself on his first and probably only visit.

Madame was, for some reason rather taken with the young lieutenant, as he faced off four people, even though it was clear he was out of his depth amongst their company. She quickly appraised him, a striking lad with hooded blue eyes and an intensity she seldom saw in the young men who came to the Marble Palace. He was lean and probably still yet to reach his full height, though he was using every inch he had to stand his ground.

"You came to this establishment unknowingly and yet somehow procured an audience with one of the most sought after courtesans in the whole of the realm? Why Annabelle's engagements are full for three months, with some of the most important personages in the kingdom begging her company, including members of the royal family. She is The Rose of Regal, Lieutenant."

Killian had the decency to look stunned at that rather famous name.

"I…I didn't arrange this Madame. My friends did without my knowledge," he pleaded his case shyly, now he knew who he had rebuffed.

"Annabelle how can this be?"

"It's true Madame. Antonio Lamont asked if I would spend a couple of hours talking with the lieutenant to help bolster his courage around ladies. Antonio is rather fond of his company and witnessed the lad being badly rejected by a young lady recently. He only wanted to help his friend to have a memorable coming of age tonight.

"Duke Lamont's nephew? Oh Annabelle. Why do you waste your attentions on that rogue?"

Madame was not taken with the charismatic officer. He was, in her very experienced eyes, a bit of a cad and happy to trifle with other people's affections for his own amusement.

Madame sighed. "Lamont is having fun at both your expenses I think. Using your good favour Annabelle, to embarrass his young friend here and have a bit of sport."

Killian cringed as he realised what Antonio was referring to. He had met Sarah Pennington recently at a play the officers had attended. She had blossomed into a beautiful woman, similar to her mother in her elegance and unfortunately Killian realised, her mother's haughty nature too. She had become the perfect aloof noblewoman. He had found that out the hard way, as he forgot the decorum of engaging with someone of a higher social position, so overjoyed in seeing one of his childhood friends again.

He had greeted Sarah with the familiarity and openness he had had when a boy. But it became obvious she no longer saw Killian as that childhood friend, but as some oafish idiot who dared to show such familiarity in front of their peers that night. Killian had felt the sting of public humiliation when he realised he was now considered beneath her. He was a landless, fortuneless navy lieutenant, with a missing father, who was often the subject of conjecture, in regards to his absence on the Cormorant during the war. The Jones family had fallen far in some people's eyes. The incident hadn't helped his already limited confidence to engage with young ladies one bit.

Madame looked at Killian's clothes. They were simple in design and not of poor quality, but obviously not as fine as this establishment was used to seeing or what Lamont's peers could well afford.

"Did your family procure a paid commission Lieutenant?" Madame decided to detract.

"No Madame, I am a lieutenant on my own merit."

Not of the same background as Lamont and his cohorts then, she concluded.

"What rank Lieutenant?"

"I am a third lieutenant." Killian replied.

"At eighteen? That's some merit young man."

"Um actually I am only fifte… I mean sixteen, Madame," he said proudly, revealing his dimpled smile.

Madam arched her eyebrows. Sixteen! His attitude and those soulful blue eyes certainly made him appear a lot older than his physical years, but fifteen was barely decent to be here, without the escort of an older relative.

"Annabelle what were you thinking?" Madame chided. "Damn that Lamont. He is as precocious as his uncle was."

"I am sorry Madame. I assumed when they said coming of age they meant he was turning eighteen. Antonio didn't say he was so young."

"I am of age," Killian said indignantly to the women "Where I come from I am now deemed a man."

Annabelle snorted "Only by what, half a day?"

Madame shook her head. "Lieutenant I understand your apprehension now. All young people should be allowed to find their own pace at discovering the acts of intimacy and I am sorry your older but much less wiser friends found it to be sporting to throw you into the deep end, so to speak. No wonder you were confused.

"I was _not_ confused Madame," he bristled, tired of people treating him as a young dolt, not after what he had lived through in the last few years. "I grew up on a rural estate, I know what rutting involves," he said sarcastically. The ladies gasped, Caleb stepped closer. Killian flinched a little.

"Lieutenant that is not the way to describe the acts of intimacy in mixed company. Surely your mother would not want to hear her gentlemanly son talk thus?"

A shadow crossed his face as he looked down. "Sorry Madame, I did not mean to be so crude."

She was sporting with him herself now, in a way. She had of course heard much, much worse. But he had rebuffed Annabelle and that intrigued her.

"Excuse me. I think I will seek Antonio out and maybe give him a good slap across the face." Annabelle stated to Madame, now tired of the whole incident. Madame liked that idea very much and nodded in agreement.

"Make sure he also pays for it dear," the older woman said dryly as the courtesan turned to leave them. Annabelle harrumphed out of the salon.

Madame's curiosity and a lifetime of reading people made her determined to find out about this young man, who had caused such a stir in her establishment.

"Where are you from Lieutenant?"

"Southern provinces Madame," he still didn't look up.

"Your parents must be proud that you have done so well in the Royal Navy at your age?"

Killian's fingers started drumming against his thigh.

"You have siblings?"

"Aye a brother."

"No sisters?"

"No it's just me and my brother."

"Do your parents still live in the southern provinces?"

"I lost my father when I was ten," Killian's jaw tensed.

"In the war?"

"Aye." He said softly.

"You have your father's striking eyes?"

"No people say I have my mother's eyes." He didn't raise those striking eyes to his silk clad interrogator.

People _said_ not _I have_ my mother's eyes Madame noted.

"You don't recall your mother's eyes?"

"She died when I was very young."

"You do not remember her?"

"I try to every bir…" he looked up in surprise then shut up. How did she do that? Damn she was as good at getting information as Raphael Beaumont had been.

"By perchance did your mother die some sixteen years ago Lieutenant?" She asked softly, though his expression gave her the answer already.

"Aye." The young man sighed. Madame's heart melted.

"She died birthing you?"

"How did….did you know?"

"It is unfortunately a common occurrence and in my circles well ….probably more so. My livelihood depends on my ability to read people Lieutenant." She gave a small, sad smile "Your eyes are years older than they should be and you are the first warm blooded, breathing male ever to refuse Annabelle's company. That's not a birthday present any male would turn down without a very good reason."

"I'm sorry I just couldn't bear the thought of…" he stuttered "Not today, the day she died after birthing me, it's not the day I want to remember as my first…." He looked down again, emotion he didn't even realise he felt, until Madame had asked about his mother, washing over him.

"Come sit. Sophia will bring us some refreshments." Madame soothed.

"You are a fine young gentleman, putting your mother's memory above other….considerations."

Then she suddenly realised the date.

"Are you Esmeralda Jones's son, oh, oh of course the eyes. You are Liam's little brother. Killian!" Madame exclaimed.

"His _younger_ brother," Killian corrected "Wait you ..you know my brother, you knew my mother?"

Killian looked even more dumbstruck than earlier.

"Yes. Liam comes here now and then and even sings for us on occasion, with some of the other officers. This is where your mother used to come and give performances. Many of your parent's old friends are still frequent guests here."

She then spent the next hour telling Esmeralda's youngest son of the days where his mother captivated the guests with her beautiful singing, of how their parents had courted in this very establishment and how shy his father had been back then too (something Killian seemed to have inherited but Liam had not, she noted). It was an unexpected turn of events for Killian as he hung on every word, every memory of the mother he never knew.

"I am also a mother, who misses her two sons, now they have grown up and gone out into the world Killian," Madame explained when he thanked her for giving up her time to talk to him. "But come, the night is young and you cannot leave without a tour of the Marble Palace. She offered her arm for him to escort her to the main guest hall, where she needed to put in an appearance at least once tonight, for her guests.

As they descended down the grand staircase, Madame noticed her young escort was not so ill at ease anymore, in fact he almost strutted. She deduced the young man was aware that his appearance was considered very favourable and that it had also bought him much unwanted attention. His shyness was perhaps more a response to not having much female company in his sea fairing life or a mother or sisters to guide him in being at ease amongst women.

As she wandered amongst the guests, Killian noticed looks of envy or awe aimed in his direction.

Suddenly Killian was face to face with Commodore Trent. Once he gathered his wits, he gave the customarily salute of heels together and eyes ahead, back stiff.

Madame merely smiled at the Commodore.

"How are you and your wife this evening?" she warmly inquired.

"Well Madame. But I'm curious as to why our young Lieutenant Jones is dangling off your elbow?"

"Commodore as a brave and dutiful navy officer, he is protecting my honour and navigating me through the dangerous waters of this evening's tempest," Madame said with much humour in her voice.

"Hmmm is he now. Well then that's good form young Jones, good form indeed. I know you have the fine makings of a skilful navigator Killian, but beware of mermaids and sirens lad, they are thick on the ground tonight," he said with a wink.

"Yes Sir," Killian replied with a cheeky grin.

Madame continued to introduce her escort to guests who knew his mother and those she couldn't afford to ignore while mingling. One particularly vacuous group were getting on Killian's nerves so he found an excuse to extract Madame from the bores.

"Why are we leaving that group Killian?" Madame inquired, hoping her guests had not noticed the lieutenant's disdain.

"They were treacherously shallow Madame and you were in danger of being permanently beached."

"Oh!" She smiled. "Oh now there is someone you should get a closer look at Killian."

She steered him over to a tall, blonde haired man dressed in attire that was almost sinister, he had quite the following around his table.

"That is Viscount Blake. They say he makes his fortune through smuggling and other illegal activities, though he has never been caught."

"Why are all those ladies in the company of a man who has a dishonourable reputation then?" Killian asked, confused.

"Why indeed Killian? Let's just say for some women there is an allure to a dangerous, mysterious man that no one can explain. For some women the dashing, brave hero in a legend isn't the character that appeals to them at all."

Killian bit his lip. He thought having honour was the key to everything.

She couldn't help but parade Killian past Antonio and his friends, their jaws dropping in surprise at the sight of their young friend escorting Madame for the evening. Killian beamed them his smuggest grin and made a discrete though extremely rude gesture as he walked by their table.

Later Annabelle approached Madame, having boosted her bruised ego by finding some besotted admirers for company.

Killian gave a courteous bow to her. Annabelle offered her hand to him to kiss.

"Lieutenant I trust you will be a gentleman and not mention tonight's unpleasant encounter to your friends. I am willing to keep quiet about it." she said with a slight arrogance. Killian realised her reputation was more at risk than his. Killian smirked.

"Thank goodness, I was afraid I would have to stab you with my sword to gain your silence on the matter."

Gods have mercy on the females of the realm when this boy fully learns to use his looks and wits, Madame thought as Annabelle walked off with an even more dramatic harrumph.

"Killian by tonight's end, I swear we will teach you that gentlemen don't use double entendre, even when warranted." Madame half chided with a smile. She didn't succeed.

Killian returned often for visits, between voyages and promotions, sometimes with Liam, sometimes alone. He spent much of his time just talking to Madame, her closest circle of guests and of course when he was feeling particularly brave, Sophia.

He learnt how to dance the latest dances and to recite fashionable odes and poems, enthralling audiences with his lilting accent and natural charm. Madame taught him the etiquette of the realm's highest society and how to engage with the fairer sex. Killian's lack of female relatives in a navy household had left him a bit bewildered at times, to the subtleties of the female mind. She didn't have to teach Killian about flirting though. He finally worked that one out for himself. He overcame his innate social shyness at times with such a focused charm, it left even the most world weary courtesans' hearts a flutter in its wake. He even, thanks to the kind and enthusiastic ministrations of Sophia, on quite a few occasions that were definitely not his birthday (though it felt as though they had arrived all at once) learnt the intimate arts of being with a woman.

By the time he was promoted to First Lieutenant, Killian Jones felt he had gained as comprehensive an education as an abandoned and dispossessed young man could hope for, to establish his place in the world.


	30. On the Right Course

The Royal Naval Academy

Eighteen year old Killian eagerly took the final assessment for his promotion to second lieutenant. It was a navigation test and he had no doubts he would once again pass with flying colours. He plotted the course he found most conducive to safe passage and once finished, handed his map to the master.

A slight man known for his bookish nature, Master Giles had a soft spot for his more gifted students, of which Killian was one. He would set the tests for the less inspiring students to something that could reflect their true ability. Thus most of the commanders could gauge their officer's competency at navigation, simply by asking which map Master Giles had given them to complete for their final test.

For the likes of students like Jones he would set a deliberate trick test to determine their judgement and ability to handle a no win situation. They were not required to pass the test as their abilities had already been proven. Their test was to give the senior officers an indication of how well these young men reacted to failure and a hefty dent to their ego, for that was what separated the average navigator from the truly tenacious explorer, attitude and fortitude.

Master Giles took his time scrutinising Killian's work, huffing and harrumphing as he did so. The lieutenant stood to attention with a slight smile on his face as he knew Master Giles could not fault it.

The master looked at the officer's attempt to navigate _through_ the trickster course he had been set. The infamous Crown of Shards Islands, the trick being one went around or between the two outlying larger islands, never actually through the islands themselves, so he was surprised to see that was what the talented navigator to be, had actually plotted.

"Lieutenant Jones what is the meaning of this?" Master Giles asked quietly.

"Sir it is my preferred course through the Crown of Shards Islands."

"Lieutenant this is not acceptable, nobody would navigate a ship through this course."

Killian at first was stunned then bristled. "But Sir it is a perfectly executed course."

"Lieutenant a ship would flounder doing this. You would doom the crew to shipwreck. I cannot believe you would produce something so reckless. I cannot accept this Lieutenant, I cannot pass you."

"But sir it is a sound course. I have ….. I have seen it done."

The master opened his eyes wide in surprise, he had not expected that.

"Impossible Lieutenant, do not try to cover your bad error of judgement with fanciful lies to me!"

"Sir I am not lying and you are wrong, it can be done," the lieutenant said defiantly.

Master Giles stared at the usually softly spoken young man in disbelief. That Jones would dare question his authority so openly and had resorted to blatant balderdash to defend his hurt pride, left the master with only one course of action.

"Lieutenant, leave this room immediately before I have to take more serious actions for your insubordination, you will have another chance in six months."

"But Sir!"

"Go now Lieutenant Jones before you damn yourself completely," Master Giles said, as he could see the young man starting to lose his temper.

Killian grabbed his drawing utensils and stormed out the room not even attempting to conceal his anger. The master sighed, that had not been what he had been expecting at all from Jones.

There were times Killian felt so at home at the Royal Navy and other times, as if he could never be part of the suffocating rigidness of it all. Some of these men, they were so tradition bound that they never saw originality and instinct as attributes, they always favoured caution over boldness.

Liam had served in the navy willingly bound by the traditions that had been ingrained in him since birth. Killian struggled hard to be like his steadfast and loyal brother (and begrudgingly maybe like his father) so sure in the royal navy rules and faith in the higher command.

Killian had seen too much carnage in his younger years from both factions of the civil war to believe in the total right of rule of any one king or authority. Sometimes his more passionate nature would chafe against the so called absoluteness of it all.

Now he just felt humiliated and angry. One of the potentially best navigators of the realm, dismissed and failed with no chance for recourse, accused of dishonourably fabricating an excuse. The lieutenant stormed off to his quarters.

"Aww what's the matter Killi, Master give you a hard time?"

Killian glared at his roommate, he was in no humour to take his fellow lieutenant's jibes. He dumped his equipment and made his way to the sparring arena, he needed to work off his anger and tension on something or someone. There were a few other officers there he could spar with and he stripped off the confines of his uniform to his trousers, picked up his cutlass and took out his frustration on a straw dummy.

"Come on Killian, practice with me, leave the poor dummy to fight a better foe" goaded a stout, slightly older officer, who often liked to act superior and bait Killian for his (rather recent) lack of connections in the world.

"Fine by me, give it your best shot Stephen." Killian was so in the mood for a fight as he moved to the centre of the fighting arena and raised his cutlass.

The young men sparred and taunted each other, Killian being shorter and lighter used his speed to counteract the thrusts of his opponent. Stephen was pressing him hard and determined to show Jones up in front of their small audience.

Still angry with his failure, Killian didn't hesitate to use some of his dirtier tricks that he had learnt through his years of actually having to fight for survival, rather than for swordplay that many of the cadets were more accustomed to. It helped him keep abreast of the upstart Stephen.

The fight had started to get out of hand with some of the other officers wondering if they should step in when a loud voice demanded "Lieutenant Jones report to Commodore Trent at the Senior Officer's Mess now!"

The two combatants reluctantly bowed to each other with no clear winner evident from their interrupted fight. Stephen smirked at Killian's obvious foreboding summons to the Commodore.

Killian quickly washed his upper body with towel and water and dressed hurriedly. He headed to what he could only expect to be a thorough dressing down and punishment at his behaviour these past few hours.

" _Liam I will never be the man you are or that you think I can be,"_ he thought sadly for the thousandth time.

 _The Senior Officer's Mess_

Captain Lucas had been taking extended shore duties while nursing a nasty wound and was engaged in conversation with Master Giles and Commodore Trent in the luxurious officer's mess, over a quiet tipple, when the topic of Lieutenant Jones came up.

"I am afraid to say Commodore that young Lieutenant Jones practically threw away his promotion today."

"Really! But he is one of our better officers surely?"

"He is. I do not know what he was thinking with the course he plotted and unfortunately he was quite contemptuous when I debrided him for it."

Captain Lucas looked at the two men. "What course did he plot Master Giles?"

"A reckless one," Giles shook his head, "through the centre of the Crown of Shards Islands. He tried to tell me I was mistaken to discredit such an attempt and told a bold faced lie to save his pride."

"Really and you did not think his course had merit?"

"Of course it had some, but it was his contempt for my authority on the matter that has done him the disservice. The lad needs to learn to be more level headed like his older brother," the master sighed.

"Yes he can certainly take after his maternal side in that respect when the mood overcomes him, but he is not reckless when it comes to a ship's course," Captain Lucas grinned and called over an aide, a young lieutenant.

"Lieutenant go quickly to my office and ask for this marked from the Osprey." Lucas handed the youth a quickly scrawled note with what he required.

"I am sad to hear that Master," the commodore stated. "I have high hopes for both the Jones; their father was a fine captain. But I agree. Killian seems to take after his mother's rather more passionate and unorthodox side, more than his father's steady temperament at times. I hope it doesn't cost him too dearly in the future or the Royal Navy for that matter."

"I beg to differ with you Commodore," Lucas added "I think under his brother's influence, Lieutenant Jones has become more like his father every year. They will do the King proud those two. I think young Jones is in need of an expedition to truly put his navigation skills to the test though. He has spent too much time on dry land when he should be out there charting new shores for our King."

They then discussed the up and coming expeditions to explore the uncharted southern realms with the purpose to add to their King's territories or discover new trading partners and resources. New ships had been built, as the King desired to expand his seat of power and influence.

The third lieutenant returned and approached Captain Lucas with a map.

"Well master, I cannot defend Lieutenant Jones insubordination to you but perhaps in defence of his honesty I should show you this."

The captain laid out the parchment on the table. "You see here I have a map from a vessel that did in fact sail through the interior of the Crown of Shards."

The master studied it. "That looks suspiciously like the course Jones plotted Captain."

"Well I'm not surprised at that."

"Captain had he by chance himself studied this when he was aboard your ship."

"No Master Giles."

"Then who is the navigator who drew this chart, I have not heard of any navy ship attempting this."

"This is from a coastal vessel Master, the chart was faithfully copied from the original by my navigator. The original was drawn up by a ship boy."

"Hmm it certainly looks that way, it is a rough map indeed."

"But a truthful if somewhat hastily drawn course, according to the honourable captain of the vessel, who had no reason to deceive me Master Giles about its maker or its necessity."

"Its necessity?"

"The captain's vessel was being pursued by corsairs at the time and this was their only alternative to capture or death with an ill wind against them, pushing them towards the islands. The chart plots the escape route his crewman helped devise, as they sort refuge through the centre of the islands for several days. So it has indeed been done Master Giles."

"So Jones had heard the tale of it being done, whilst on your ship?"

"No Jones knows it has been done because he was the twelve year old ship boy who sounded out the course and drew this chart, while his captain steered the ship true."

The master looked at Captain Lucas with wonder and then smiled as he nodded.

"I've always had high regard for that talented lad Captain, but what of the insubordination?"

"Hmmm Captain Fitzgerald is looking for a new lieutenant to accompany him south I believe." Commodore Trent said thoughtfully.

Captain Lucas smiled at the thought of Lieutenant Jones under the command of a man who was regarded as the best at turning many a cocky young officer into a sensible commander under his watch.

Killian stood to attention as he waited his expected berating. He was surprised when the Commodore, Master Giles and Captain Lucas all approached him.

" _It must be bad, very very bad,"_ Killian thought bitterly.

"Lieutenant Jones," the Commodore said sternly.

"Yes Sir," Killian tried not to stammer.

"I hear you were a bit lippy towards Master Giles today."

"Killian looked down with a pout "Yes Sir I was."

"Hmm. That's not very becoming behaviour for a second lieutenant. You must respect the chain of command at all times Lieutenant Jones."

"Yes Sir."

"Lieutenant Jones, I will expect much more gentlemanly behaviour and good form of you now that you _are_ a second lieutenant. Do you understand?"

"Wha…. what Sir?" Killian pulled his head back in confusion.

"You heard me man, certain facts have been brought to my and Master Giles attention about your past navigation experiences and in consideration of these facts we promote you to Second Lieutenant Jones."

Killian's face broke out into his dimpled grin.

"Thank you Commodore." Then he remembered his salute.

"I will also expect you to accompany Captain Fitzgerald on the Petrel if he is willing to have you as his navigator for an expedition past the Southern Isles."

Killian sucked in his breath. A chance to explore beyond their realm's coastline was something he had long coveted. Liam would be so proud of him. Captain Lucas patted the stunned lieutenant on the shoulder.

"Well done lad."

Killian left elated, after a long conversation with his commanding officers and a kindly offered celebratory drink. Finally a birth date with something to truly celebrate he thought.

Two months later Liam stood at the bottom of the gang plank of The Petrel. His young brother proudly wore his new rank on his naval jacket as they said their goodbyes.

"Well Second Lieutenant and official Royal Navigator," Liam smirked as Killian puffed his chest out a little at his new title "I guess you will require this on the expedition." Liam handed Killian over a satchel.

Killian smiled. He could tell what it was. He opened up the satchel and pulled out the Jones family sextant. Killian then hugged Liam fiercely. Neither knew when they would see each other again.

"Thank you brother, I will do us proud." Killian said in earnest.

"Aye I don't doubt that Killian," Liam clapped his brother on the back and said his parting words "Fair sailing little brother and just remember, don't drink the local water."


	31. Rum

_Somewhere with blue skies and warm, crystal clear waters_

Lieutenant Jones looked at the citadel and the town that flanked it with a certain amount of apprehension. Somewhere in the labyrinth of streets were First Lieutenant Green and a small portion of the crew, who were enjoying some shore leave. They were enjoying it a little too much by Killian's reckoning, they were already a few hours overdue.

He stood at the Petrel's helm keeping one eye on the sailors he'd been left in charge of and another one on the docks. If the men didn't return before the captain there would be at least three different hells to pay.

Captain Fitzgerald had fortunately been occupied within that citadel, unaware of his crew's tardiness while he negotiated with the archipelago's powers that be the terms of trade he hoped to obtain for his king. The islands had many exotic goods that would be eagerly traded for by merchants. There were spices, foods and medicinal plants never seen before by the Petrel's crew.

One particular favourite novelty the crew discovered while they explored the archipelago was the realm's version of rum. It was not the rum they were familiar with back home. This was a much more refined liquor, extracted from the sweet, tall, grass like plants that grew so well throughout the warm islands. The different varieties had been eagerly adopted as the preferred beverage by the crew, with the traditional brandy left forgotten in the ship's hold. Killian had never been fond of brandy himself, not after Slate Harbour; the taste always bought back unpleasant memories. This new rum was something he could certainly develop a liking for (in moderation of course, ever mindful of good form and all that).

Killian sweltered in his cravat and vest under the intense sun. He looked at the sailors able to work in their open shirts or bare torsos with a touch of jealousy. His captain insisted the officers maintained a sense of decorum at all times. Killian had learnt much from Captain Fitzgerald over the last two years on the several long voyages the Petrel had undertaken. Now in his twentieth year Killian had honed his skills as a navigator during those voyages. He had charted many a new coastline with his captain and gained much needed knowledge of the lands that lay far to the south of their kingdom.

They had even heard of different realms that could be reached through magic portals, though had yet to find any substantial proof of such feats.

At last he saw the first lieutenant and some of the crew return to the docks much worse for wear by the looks of it. It was just as well the locals were friendly and eager to help these strangers from a far off land, otherwise the men would never have found their way back.

Killian huffed with relief. Well at least that lot won't get flogged, having returned before their captain. Killian went to help the very wobbly lieutenant on board.

When safely across the gang plank the first lieutenant looked at Killian with a stupid grin on his face.

"Killi… Killi willi," he slurred "oh you have got to go and try out…. out the local tav'ns they are a reva …rev…ummppph."

The first lieutenant then rushed for the railing and vomited, just missing Killian's boots. Killian raised his eyebrow, sighed and called to one of the nearest sailors.

"Fetch me two buckets of water."

One he indicated to the sailor to wash the deck down, the other he took and with a feral grin threw cold water into the drunken lieutenant's face. He'd been itching to do something like that for a long time. _Killi willi_ indeed!

"Better Lieutenant Green?" Killian said with complete innocence and feigned concern.

"No, oh by the gods I think I'm going to die." Lieutenant Green moaned as he sank to his knees gripping the rail.

Killian threw the remainder of the water over the lieutenant.

"You will if the captain finds you on deck in this state." He smirked. "Sailor help our second in command to his quarters please, oh and best take the bucket, as for the rest of you drunken sailors get below before I decide to make you responsible for gutting the fish needed for our supper."

That was enough to send the other men scrambling below deck to recover from their shore leave. When would they learn? Sailors and too much rum never mixed well, Killian mused.

A few hours later Captain Fitzgerald returned with his Captain of Marines to report that trade negotiations had gone very well. They would be able to return to their kingdom and declare this voyage a great success. The captain then informed his boatswain of the impressive cargo they would be receiving over the next few days to take back home.

Captain Fitzgerald was in a cheerful mood and offered a celebratory toast in the great cabin to his officers. He clapped Killian on the shoulder as he handed his lieutenant a shot of the island's finest rum.

"Well Jones how does it feel to be part of a successful voyage? We have charted new lands, discovered new treasures and made new allies. Not bad for an old tub such as this."

Killian smiled. He did feel a huge sense of accomplishment. He looked forward to getting back home to regale all he had seen to Liam. He beamed his dimpled grin.

"Aye Captain it has been a worthy journey, almost a hero's journey, particularly after our encounter with those mermaids."

The officers continued to discuss the various successes and close calls of their voyage when the watch officer came in.

"Begging your pardon Sirs but I think you best come up on deck and see whot's just shown up ta port."

The men filed up on deck. Killian went to rouse Green out of his cabin and helped the second in command be presentable on deck, as he sensed trouble of some sort had just arrived.

The two officers then joined their captain, who inspected the new vessel through his spyglass.

They looked at the newly arrived ship with trepidation. It was definitely a war ship, a frigate by the looks of it, anchored out in the clear blue waters of the bay. Although they were familiar with the realm's ensign, it did not reassure them that the new arrival was friendly; the competition had arrived at port it seemed. Captain Fitzgerald frowned. This was not a good omen at all.

"Killian can you draw her? That hull design is one I am not familiar with, though I recognise the flags I didn't think that realm possessed warships designed like this. She looks like she is built for speed and would be able to outrun our ship, that's for certain."

"Aye captain," Killian went and fetched his equipment. He spent the next two days faithfully drawing the ship as he watched her crew row into shore periodically. He drew as many versions as he could, as the tide turned her to different aspects. As soon as the Petrel was fully loaded the Captain bid a cordial farewell to their new trade partners and slipped out of port under the cover of darkness. The crew was much relieved when they were finally in familiar waters and there had been no sign of the other ship tailing them. She could have easily blown them out of the water, obliterating all accounts of their voyages and their existence. The captain and Killian had used some of the passages and currents they had discovered while sailing south to avoid the obvious, more direct routes back north, where they would be easily outrun by a faster ship.

Nobody on the Petrel could have predicted they would be at war with that realm within the next few years. As is the way with kingdom's that desire new resources, a simple trade war escalated into dominance of the new southern seaways, which escalated into all-out war between the two rival kingdoms.

 _Somewhere not so pleasant_

The prisoner knew he didn't have long to live in this dank, dark place. He only wished he could see his sons one more time. They would be well into their manhood now. He had glimpsed his youngest, once many years ago. He had only just missed the familiar two mast sloop as it left port one day. His instincts told him that the dark headed youth he saw up in the rigging was his son, still alive and well on Seafoam. Of all the regrets the man had at least he knew his life had not been in vain these past years as he rotted in his prison. The mythical feathers had been, after many ordeals, located and acquired for the good of the kingdom. One day his sons' futures would be more secure and peace would be guaranteed, he had done his part in enabling that for his realm and his boys. The man coughed, a dreadful hacking cough, he closed his eyes and sort comfort as he often did of the image of two handsome, blue eyed men, successful and happy with their lives, with spouses and children of their own, to carry on the honourable name of the Jones legacy.


	32. Duty and Honour

_Storybrooke_

" _Oh My God!"_ she thought as she looked through the binoculars _"Keep cool, act like a professional but seriously, Oh My God!"_

"You see him, you see him down there? I bet he's up to no good," the old lady moaned, "I've been keeping a close eye on him. He doesn't scare me, but my poor dog is a nervous wreck, and here am I with nothing in my cupboards to give him and I daren't leave the house with that scoundrel down there. Probably rob me of what little I have as soon as I leave for town.

"You've been watching him all this time through these?" Emma asked, indicating the binoculars.

"Of course, I'm not stupid enough to let him out of my sight or to go down there and tell him to move on, that's your job young lady."

"Ok ok, but I will just make sure he is safe to approach without backup. I'll just observe him for a bit longer."

" _Oh My God!"_ Emma hoped she wasn't as red as a beet as she watched her pirate down in the cove, her topless pirate down in the cove, her topless, still glistening wet pirate down in the cove. Emma had felt Killian's toned muscles under his leathers and shirts but she hadn't suspected just how toned he was. " _The things we have to do in the line of duty."_ She sighed.

She wasn't perving really; he had put his leather pants on before she arrived at Mrs Hubbard's. Somehow it was a disturbing thought that the old lady had seen more of Killian than she had.

She watched as Killian put on his shirt. It almost broke her heart as she watched him slowly, methodically button up the shirt. He had to stop occasionally to battle an uncooperative button.

She'd asked him once why he chose clothing with so many buttons and he had simply shrugged and given her that lop sided grin, stating it was a challenge and he'd always loved a challenge.

Watching him now, it seemed to her more like a penance.

"Right I'm going to go down there and move him on. You will be back to peace and quiet soon Mrs Hubbard."

"Are you going to arrest him for vagrancy?"

"Umm yes, yes I will put him under um… house arrest; best get down there and um deal to him."

She turned and quickly left before the old woman could see the grin forming on Emma's face.

" _I am so going to make sure he doesn't leave the Jolly Roger's cabin…for at least a couple of days,"_ Emma actually giggled as she got into her vehicle _._

 _Port Regal_

"Captain Jones."

"First Lieutenant Jones."

The two brothers grinned and then embraced each other in a warm hug.

"Good to be back home little brother?" Liam asked as he placed some cheese and bread on the table for Killian. Killian gave his usual _look_ at the familiar jibe.

"Aye it is, though I will miss the Petrel. How is the Jewel of the Realm brother, all that you hoped she would be?"

Liam had been captain of the realm's newest ship for some months now. He couldn't tell Killian about the latest voyage with her newly fitted sail. It had been an exhilarating experience for him and his loyal crew, as they tested the sail's secrete capabilities. The ship had been built for speed and strength. She was lighter than regular ships; the hull made of a flexible and resilient wood from the Enchanted Forest that could endure the stresses of doing what no other ship could do, sail through the firmament and touch the clouds.

"Aye she is indeed a treasure Killian. I hope one day you will get to sail on her," Liam knew that was a very distinct possibility. At 23 Killian had the reputation of one of the most talented navigators the King's Navy had ever had. But Liam couldn't discuss his mission yet with his brother. One more audience with the King tomorrow would seal the Jones brothers' fate for the up and coming voyage. Liam expected a favourable response to his request to have Killian join him as the Jewel's navigator. He was so proud of how fine an officer and gentleman Killian had become (even if he did still grumble about the "stupid hats" they wore).

"What new exotic treasures did you discover this time, another successful voyage was it Killian?"

"Indeed," Killian raised his eyebrow "though we had an encounter with the enemy and had to careen the Petrel to repair her several times. I'm afraid this is her last voyage." Killian had grown attached to the old ship over the years, but as the war escalated new designs and faster ships had been built by both sides. The Petrel had barely made it back to their realm and definitely not in one piece.

"So you are without berth at the moment Killian?"

"Aye but I suspect I'll soon be off on another voyage. His Majesty is certainly fond of funding new expeditions to help gain an advantage in the war." Killian smiled "How about you Liam? Have you managed to convince Megan to become a captain's wife yet, while I was away?

Liam smiled "Almost. I do have the necessary item to perform such a request."

"What? A less stupid hat," Killian grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Liam shook his head and reached into his coat pocket. "I have this." He proudly showed Killian the elegant ring he had had made for the lovely woman he had courted for the past several years.

"Her father has given me his permission and I intend to ask her after I return from my next voyage."

Killian patted Liam on both arms knowing how tenacious Liam had been to win over Megan's father. Not many fathers would allow their daughters to be betrothed to a naval captain during wartime, no matter how honourable their reputation was. "A man willing to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets Liam."

"And what of you brother, managed to sweep some foreign lass off her feet during your voyages?"

"No," Killian blushed "Captain Fitzgerald always kept me rather busy as his second in command. After Lieutenant Green absconded with an island lass, the Captain kept us officers within his sights much of the time." Killian sighed.

"You know you might have more success if you got rid of that stupid ponytail little brother," Liam teased.

Killian moved his tongue to the corner of his mouth, a mannerism he'd developed around eighteen and one Liam had learnt, signified Killian was having anything but innocent baby brother thoughts.

"I don't think it's my ponytail they're interested in Liam." He raised his eyebrows, winked and smirked at his brother.

"Hmmm I'm hoping you are not going to turn out to be that crusty old bachelor uncle everyone warns their relatives about Killian," Liam raised his eyebrow.

"You know me. Impeccable good form and always the gentleman Liam." Killian said as he bowed in jest to his brother.

The next day deep in the Royal Palace, in one of the many state rooms, Liam bowed respectfully to his king "Your Majesty."

"Captain Jones," the King nodded his head in acknowledgement "Admiral Trent and I sincerely believe the success of this mission would mean the end of war with our enemies, bringing much needed peace to the realm."

"Do this for your King, sail into the unknown and I will grant you lands for your efforts, amongst the usual honours such a mission brings to a well serving, loyal naval officer." He smiled benignly at the captain "I will grant you anything your heart desires Captain Jones. What do you desire Liam, even a man of honour such as yourself must covet something other than a successful career on the seas."

Liam nodded his head in appreciation at the compliments "Thank you Your Majesty. There is one thing my heart desires of a strategic naval matter. May I be permitted to take my younger brother as my navigator? He is the most suited in the realm for this type of mission." And may I, with permission of the Admiralty, reveal the truth to Lieutenant Jones of our father's fate. How he helped procure the Pegasus feathers that has allowed us to undertake this voyage. My brother still sees him as a fugitive of sorts; a man without as much honour as is his due, for expediency has kept the truth from my brother.

The King looked at his Admiral and then nodded his consent "Yes I will allow it, but only after the mission is successful. There are still those out there whose anonymity keeps them safe from our enemy spies. I will give you a royal sealed letter to be opened only when back at port Captain, explaining your father's brave deeds to his youngest son.

The King still had fear of many different enemies and he did not want to reveal his network of agents and informants. But he could understand the man's request, his father had served loyally yet there could be no mention or accolade of his deeds openly in court. The man had simply become another anonymous casualty of the civil war, his true contribution kept secret from those outside military circles.

"Prepare the Jewel of the Realm and your crew Captain Jones. I will give you your orders and your destination one week hence. Much is relying on the success of this mission Captain. Good day to you Sir."

Liam bowed and left his King's presence, much pleased with the outcome of the meeting.

As the captain left, the King thought of the Jones brothers' missing father.

The King has learnt of Captain Tobias Jones death of course, after all he had ordered the prison's captain of the guard to inform him immediately when it occurred.

" _The things one must do for the good of the kingdom and for my glorious reign."_ he mused

Liam smiled as he headed back to the apartments. It would be Killian's birthday when they returned to port by his calculations. What better birth date gift could Liam give, than a letter from the King himself, to redeem their father's reputation for his brother? Hopefully it would finally heal that childhood wound he could still see occasionally festering there deep in Killian's soul. Yes this voyage will bring much glory and ensure a secure future for both of the Jones men.


	33. Hero's Journey

**A/N** So I'll be ending this story in a few more chapters. I have really appreciated the follows and favourites and lovely reviews. Thanks everyone for taking the time to read this. Somehow my ten original chapters have turned into 30 plus and your continued support has helped that happen.

When I started this in June I never thought we'd get to see Killian's backstory so I'm looking forward to what OUAT have planned for the Killian and Papa Jones episode. In the meantime…

 _Port Regal_

It was the usual gathering of the realm's nobility, the kingdoms most prestigious or currently favoured subjects and important visitors from other realms. Tonight there were also many high ranking military and naval personal as well. All were engaged in small talk and politicking, showing off their impeccable good manners and their best finery under the warm glow of the numerous candle chandeliers in the King's Court.

Captain Jones and his second in command had been requested to attend as well. Their mission was still so secretive that even the captain did not know as yet, where His Majesty was sending them or why. But Captain Jones was a patient man and in two days they would set sail on the realm's most prized vessel, to accomplish what he envisioned would ensure the Jones family were well provided for the rest of their lives. He felt no fear; only anticipation for what was to come, ever trusting in the Royal Navy and his king.

Liam glanced at Killian as they circulated amongst the guests. Killian had worked tirelessly the last week with the Jewel's crew to get her provisioned and fitted for their journey. Some of the crew had known Killian from other voyages, when he had served with Liam over the years on various vessels, so Killian had settled into his new post with ease. He looked every bit the gallant naval first lieutenant that Liam knew his younger brother had worked so conscientiously to be while under Captain Fitzgerald's command.

Amongst the guests, discretely watching the two brothers was an unassuming man wearing the realm's traditional robes of a royal apothecary. His interest was in the taller of the two, having been informed this was the captain of the Jewel of the Realm undertaking the voyage to Neverland. The man certainly seemed confident and capable, as the apothecary watched him from the edge of the room. He was not certain who the younger companion was, probably the second in command by the looks of his uniform.

Currently the captain had the full attention of some court ladies and their father. The young officer seemed a little more shy and content to stay in the shadow of his older companion but the apothecary could sense there was a quiet courage in that guileless countenance, even from his vantage point.

Awhile later the apothecary made his way over to stand behind the two naval men and their present company. He was of such a nondescript nature, nobody paid much attention to him standing there, sipping his wine. One of the ladies was trying to hint at the younger man she would like to dance, which he eventually got (not very perceptive that one). Taking her hand the officer stepped back into the loitering apothecary who couldn't _really_ prevent his wine being spilt on the man's uniform. The younger man was clearly annoyed but covered it up well, once apologies were made. The man then went to get a servant to help him deal with the stain on his jacket.

Alone at last with the captain, the apothecary made inane small talk, his quick mind not missing anything, a slight twitch here, a slight raised eyebrow there until he was satisfied he had gleaned all he could from the captain, whose natural authority and loyalty were perfect traits for the King's mission.

The young man eventually returned. The captain introduced him as Lieutenant Jones (a relation maybe?). The apothecary made his grovelling apologies once again as he wished to leave to attend to other matters. He took the lieutenant's hand in his for one last fawning "sorry". He studied those sea blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with joy but also if one cared to notice, held such hidden depths of pain and a hint of ruthlessness. The apothecary almost cried out in surprise looking into those eyes as he suddenly let go of the young man's hand and made his way quickly back to his dusty herbal rooms.

"What was that all about?" Killian asked Liam.

"I've no idea. You know what those types of men are like Killian, definitely not on an even keel," Liam folded his arms and looked sternly at Killian "Now are you going to ask that nice young lady for a dance or do I as your big brother and captain have to order you to?" Liam inquired.

Killian raised his eyebrow then poked his tongue into the corner of his cheek.

"If my captain insists. I best go do my duty, if nothing more than to remind my very old almost betrothed brother what it is to be quite the carefree, unattached, young bachelor at these gatherings," Killian bowed with a smirk and sauntered off to dance the night away.

The apothecary waited until in a deserted corridor before he snapped his fingers and disappeared into a swirl of smoke. Once in the apothecary chambers with the large oak door firmly bolted, he started to laugh, a deep, cackling belly laugh.

Oh how apt, how divine, how deliciously just. He certainly hadn't seen that coming at all, for all his talents and powers that was a most unexpected and yet pleasant surprise.

These creatures; whether they were humans, dwarfs, fairies or deities, they were all the same underneath it all. They were all motivated by their fears, desperation, greed and bloodlust to some extent. It was so easy to steer one here on a collision course with that one there, to manipulate and orchestrate them to whatever ends he needed.

The King of this realm had started to be paranoid many years ago, falling into that ever useful trap of his own fear being used against him to cajole him into doing the unthinkable with dark bargains made.

How many fine officers and loyal subjects had he already betrayed as his fear of losing his power and throne enticed him to do things usually attributed to his predecessor the usurper (who was even easier to twist into darkness until he got captured, idiot).

First there was a suggestion of getting the magical feathers, then a hint that those who managed such an amazing feat, had planned all along to betray their King. One by one they were dispatched or imprisoned by their own King's orders, their innocence a mere inconvenience. Soon as the guilt and paranoia ate at the King's soul, more drastic measures were needed for him to feel secure in his power.

 _How about a plant that could destroy all your enemies Your Majesty, so you could reign supreme?_

Tales of another realm, hints of a far off island, a painting of such a plant and then all was set in motion.

Transforming into his true self, the Dark One walked over to a painting of the dream shade, stirring up the pile of dust covering the floor that had once been the royal apothecary (whose ambition and arrogance to be the one to find such a plant had led to his recent _condition_ ).

Zoso laughed again. Oh yes it was so beautifully simple and apt.

Although he could not see the future in its entirety he often caught glimpses of it.

Soon (in relative terms for an immortal) he would be free of the Dark One's curse and end this life where he had existed for so long in its cold embrace. His successor would face a threat he never did, someone called The Survivor or was it the Saviour, the future could be unclear at times.

And right in front of him tonight he stumbled on a young man that would torment and pursue that new Dark One for hundreds of years, would serve the new Dark One's sire no less, in order to chase Zoso's successor through many realms in bloody, single minded revenge, his gallant heart darkened by what Zoso had already set in motion within this realm, in this time.

Oh yes! So beautiful, so simple, and so apt. So very the Dark One.

 _The Jewel of the Realm_

 _Flying_! He was actually flying. It was so different from being in the rigging of a ship sailing full speed, so different to being on the prow of a ship slicing through the water (but still just as damp, Killian mused). It was just so exhilarating to actually be high up in the firmament, something that people only dreamed of but never actually experienced, unless one had a spare tame dragon from the older legends or some pixie dust. Killian stood at the rail beaming from ear to ear as cool, clean wind rushed past his face. It lacked the familiar tang the sea winds carried and reminded him of the brief time he spent up in the snowy mountains all those years ago. Every now and then he would re-sight the stars with his new sextant and asked for the Jewel's course to be slightly altered as they headed steadily towards the new realm on their King's quest.

Later as night deepened, Liam and Killian sat at the captain's table to eat and discuss the many aspects of their new voyage and what it could mean for their futures when they returned to Port Royal.

"How does it feel to be part of a hero's journey rather than just reading about it in one of your books Killian?" Liam teased as he poured the wine for dinner.

"It feels good Liam. Though I didn't think we'd get very far into the journey when we first sighted those enemy frigates. You could have told me we were able to fly Liam."

"Well you are always more of a sceptic than me Killian, so even if I had told you I doubt you would have believed me. Besides the expression on your face was priceless."

"Bad form to scare your younger brother like that Liam."

"Ha I know you don't scare easily Killian, unless there are young ladies in the room, then that's a whole different kind of scared," Liam laughed as his brother blushed.

"We'll see whose scared when you are standing at the alter about to give up your freedom to matrimony," Killian tried teasing.

"That doesn't frighten me in the slightest Killian." Liam winked.

"How did you know Megan is the woman you want to marry Liam? You have courted a few women over the years," Killian asked with genuine interest about his hopefully soon to be sister in law.

"I just did Killian. I have always looked for a companion in life that could give me what our parents had I guess. With Megan I see that Killian, it is hard to explain," Liam said earnestly.

Killian bit his lip as he thought about that. He hadn't known the love between his parents first-hand. He hadn't really seen many examples of married life apart from the Bristol's and Williams and then he'd been too young to take much notice. He'd spent most of his life at sea hearing about it from married sailors but never witnessing it. He'd seen plenty of the unattached sailors doing things that were not considered conducive for a happily married life at all, in the many ports they called into.

Liam noticed Killian was deep in thought and he could guess what about.

"Don't worry Killian you will find a lass one day who doesn't render you into a speechless stupor. Who knows what or who you may find in Neverland," he smiled in encouragement.

"Aye who knows Liam?" Killian said. He chinked his wine glass against Liam's, his dimpled grin lighting up his face.

The Jewel of the Realm touched down into warm turquoise waters. Killian helped navigate the ship towards an island that looked lush and tranquil. There was no sign of villages or people as they sailed up into a small bay to drop anchor. They could hear strange, almost mournful sounds though whether they were birds or animals the crew could not be sure.

After a quick look through their spy glasses the captain gave the order to lower a row boat. As the mission was of the upmost secrecy only he and Killian would go ashore. There was nothing obviously dangerous from what they could determine from the Jewel's deck.

"On with the hero's journey Lieutenant," Liam smiled as he stepped into the row boat with Killian. They rowed to the shore, where the promise of glory awaited the Jones brothers.


	34. When Darkness Falls

_A/N Time for less of the angst and more of the comfort._

 _Port Regal_

When the news reached the Royal Admiralty that Captain Liam Jones had died on the Jewel of the Realm, undertaking a secret mission for the King, Commodore Lucas had privately shed tears for the loss of a respected, talented captain and a close friend.

The sad news was accompanied by the shocking reports that had been steadily trickling in, "Captain" Killian Jones, the finest navigator in the realm was reaping his revenge on the now pirated naval ship renamed The Jolly Roger (where in hells did he come up with that name?).

Commodore Lucas opened his finest, strongest rum (ironically a gift of Captain Fitzgerald's from one of his voyages with the now marauding former lieutenant) and he got well and truly messily drunk. He lamented Lieutenant Jones's abandonment of "good form" and marked the Royal Navy's sudden loss of both the talented Jones brothers.

Lucas was not surprised the younger Jones had reacted to his brother's death so recklessly. He was after all, of the same passionate, impulsive nature as his mother, despite his brother's influence over the years. Lucas was certain Jones had never quite shaken off those dark years when he was a fugitive either. Liam's loss would have pushed the younger brother to a point from which there was no return. Their brotherly bond had always been strong, especially after they had experienced those years where each thought the other was already lost to the civil war.

Lieutenant Killian Jones had taken his revenge on any ship that bore the royal flag and had made it known, he only left crewmen alive to press his message that the "corrupt and cowardly" King's Royal Navy were now at his complete mercy, of which he would show none when he flew the crimson flag.

Lucas pondered the rather glaring problem on how the navy could catch the best navigator in the realm, one who probably knew every possible hidden anchorage and had quite the talent for finding favourable currents and routes. Jones could avoid the navy's fleet at his leisure. With the Pegasus sail in his hands on one of the fastest ships in the realm he would be unstoppable. Lucas just hoped Killian didn't betray them further by siding with the enemy's fleet; the commodore simply didn't have enough rum if such a treacherous deed occurred.

Somewhere in the haze later that night Lucas wondered if Liam got to tell Killian the truth of their father's loyalty and bravery that had saved so many innocent lives and of how he amongst others had completed a hero's journey in acquiring the Pegasus feathers for the realm. Lucas also wondered if Liam had been able to do so when he had first requested it, would there have been no need to issue Killian Jones's death warrant for treason and piracy against his King.

Commodore Lucas had noted the date when he sadly put his signature to the warrant; it was the same as the now condemned pirate captain's birth date.

 _Jolly Roger_

Killian had been dimly aware of the two officers as they tried to pry him from his brother's lifeless body after hearing his calls for help. He had been dimly aware they had shut the hatch to the captain's quarters so the crew couldn't hear the lieutenant's wails as he screamed _no! no! no!_ while they tried to determine what had happened to their beloved captain.

He had been dimly aware, as he lovingly washed his brother's body and personally sewed Liam into his canvas shroud later that night, that his wounded heart would never beat with joy or love the same again. Numbness and darkness followed him with every task, every step. He hadn't eaten properly for days after Liam's death; the only thing he had kept down was some thin gruel and the rum which his new second in command gave him to help him sleep.

But he was acutely aware of one thing, he would get his revenge on the treacherous king with every waking breath, he would extract a heavy price for what the cowardly ruler and his minions had done.

 _Some weeks later_

Killian knew he had completely lost his soul to darkness as he watched the ship burn to the water. The ship had been on an expedition funded by the King. The ship's crew and passengers had begged for their lives, stating they were humble, defenceless men of learning, not military or trade.

Captain Killian Jones had almost waivered and thought of showing a little mercy to such pitiful men. Unfortunately one had then revealed they had been on a mission to collect botanical samples from a far off realm to find new botanical species and the captain's mercy would save more than just their lives but possibly hundreds more.

Killian had been enraged and ordered the men locked in the hold and that the ship be burnt. He truly had shown no quarter against the defenceless victims. Yes his soul was truly blackened as he watched the smoke and flames slowly be engulfed by the ocean. He knew his temperament could no longer be contained by compassion or convention of good form, he had allowed his less than noble side rise to the surface and drown any decency he had once had.

Sailing away from the remains of the burnt ship he wished for the thousandth time he hadn't so impulsively burnt the Pegasus sail, not only was it an incredibly stupid thing to do on a ship at sea, but it could have provided a valuable, tactical advantage in his quest for revenge. It was the only time he felt any regret over his actions the last few months, as he pondered what dark deeds he could have achieved if he hadn't have turned the enchanted sail to ashes. At the time he needed a grand gesture to ensure the crew were inspired to follow him and they had been. He had managed not to steer the crew wrong since that fateful day and brought them victory after bloody victory.

Recently when close to inshore waters he had spotted a familiar coastal two mast sloop off the bow. It was testament to his captaincy that not one of the crew questioned why he did not order the attack on such as easy target but instead ordered they change course for deeper waters. He watched the fading visage of the sloop with shame as he thought about what its pragmatic captain would think of their "Lucky Liam" now. All their kindness and seamanship they had shown him those years ago on Seafoam had ironically resulted in one of the most ruthless and cunning pirates the realm had encountered.

" _Liam,"_ he silently invoked to the sea " _Oh Liam, you were always the better man than me, why did you have to be the one to die?"_

He fingered his big brothers ring he wore close to his heart on a chain. The realm's best navigator was aware of the irony that he had most definitely lost his way.

 _100 or so years later_

He never played or sang anymore, not since…..well, since the whole missing a hand thing. He had played often in the evenings for his lover Milah and the crew while out on the oceans. The soothing sounds of his mandolin with the creek of the ship and lap of waves often becalmed them all.

The young lass at the tavern sang so poignantly about the mysterious fathoms below. Those deep dark places a sailor could easily be lost in.

" _I have been,"_ he thought, trying not to dwell on this day, his birth date. He hadn't thought about the date for quite a few decades but her voice bought him back to that time when he was young and naïve like she seemed to be. Trusting if he was a good boy, a good son, a good brother and a good sailor then life would be good back. Ha he'd got that horribly wrong.

But here he was many decades later, the corrupt, cowardly king long rotted in the ground, their kingdom long ago invaded and re-invaded. Killian's original vengeance was a forgotten thing of history, surpassed by an even darker desire for revenge to destroy the seemingly impossible, a quest that had taken him across more realms than he cared to remember.

He'd ditched the crew at some other tavern not wanting to have to bother with talk or swagger tonight, he just wanted to imbibe some strong drink and be left to his own dark thoughts in his own dark corner somewhere.

But she had pulled him out of that with her singing. It soothed his melancholy, relieved his loneliness for just a moment. His cunning mind was always restless though and it didn't take him long to use that clever head of his to put that voice together with the Roger's near stranding. Hook came up with yet another devious plan as he went to buy the lass a drink.

 _Storybrooke_

People often thought being under the sea would be silent but for those that knew it, there was always noise when in the seas embrace. The music of the ocean as it forever moved, the click of rocks or shells as they rolled with the waves, the strange hums and songs which nobody knew what exactly made them, except maybe the mermaids. Killian opened his eyes as he hung there just below the surface in the grey-blue water, allowing his muscles to relax, his mind to calm down. It was cleansing in a way, to let the water take away those dark memories and childhood wounds he had dwelled on the past 24 hours. His last thoughts were of Ursula and the return of his home, his beloved ship. He still couldn't quite believe at times she was back here in Storybrooke, back under his captaincy though now she would not be used for dark deeds and piracy. When at last he felt refreshed in both body and mind he headed back to the shore.

" _Time to get on with the here and now, return back to town and to home_." Killian decided.

Killian had never imagined he would have a family again. It was both familiar and unfamiliar but in Storybrooke he now felt part of a family, an eclectic family to be sure but still family. He would sit down with Charming and Snow, Henry, Regina and Robin and of course his Swan as part of their family. Somehow after all the trials and tribulations over the last few months, the thought of those simple gatherings helped dispel the darkness he had allowed himself to wallow in these past two days.

He had dressed and then packed up his remaining supplies into his duffel bag, he had just donned his black coat when he saw someone approach him down the sandy track to the beach.

"Emma!"

She stood there looking at him with a mischievous smile on her face.

"Captain I hear you have been having a rather swashbuckling time here."

A shadow crossed over Killian's face briefly as he gave his characteristic grumpy face, but it was only a mere moment, though Emma still noticed it.

He detracted with his usual charm and smiles.

"Swan I was just heading back into town. Why are you here?"

Emma reached behind her and pulled out the handcuffs and swirled them around her index finger. "I'm here on official duty Tiger."

The expected raised eyebrow appeared as did the smug grin. "Why Swan ….finally!"

"Easy there pirate I'm here to arrest you…..um for …"

"Being devilishly handsome love?" He made that endearing though mostly cocky side bow of his head at her.

"No. For disturbing an old lady's peace of mind."

"What?"

Emma pointed up to the cliffs though the house couldn't be seen from where Killian had made camp. Killian looked up at the cliff perplexed.

"Enlighted me Swan, what am I supposed to be perusing?"

"An elderly woman lives up there and she's not so smitten with you showing off your…..barnacles and keel as it were."

He didn't even blush as the realisation sunk in he wasn't as isolated in the cove as he thought he was.

"You know in some places I've visited, such an event would be considered cause for celebration Swan."

He winked then Killian faced the cliff and gave a most gracious bow.

"How did you find this place anyway?" Emma asked curious, it was a lovely little bay.

"As a three hundred year old pirate I know a thing or two about navigation love. I just looked at the town map and walked here."

"Well now you get a ride back in the Sheriff's truck."

Killian held out his wrists and ran his tongue along his bottom lip "If you insist," he purred eying up the cuffs.

Emma rolled her eyes and grabbed his duffle bag. "Scoundrel," she smirked then grabbed his sleeping mat indicating with her head to make their way back to the vehicle.

Killian set about quickly cleaning the campsite up and burying the remains of the fire.

He swaggered up to the truck where Emma was waiting for him, leaning against the passenger door.

"So Killian are you alright," she asked softly "You want to tell me why you went all Robinson Crusoe on us."

"Robinson who?"

"He was a character in a book, a classical story about a castaway on a deserted island."

"Hmmm can't think there'd be much to write about for a whole book. Ate a coconut, slept, ate a coconut slept, and ate a coconut."

Emma huffed knowing his flippancy was a defensive move when feeling vulnerable.

"What I'm asking is are you okay? Is this a date that's particularly hard for you."

He looked at her with his quizzical look. "How did you know it's about a date love?"

"I just have a hunch and as a thirty something law officer I know a thing or two about investigation…. _Love_." she half smiled up at him.

"Is it a day you lost someone you loved Killian," she put a hand on his arm and saw the hint of sadness there on his features.

"Aye Swan," he looked up to the sky then at her "Open book and all that." He gave his sad smile.

He then went silent for a moment. He hadn't told her much of his earlier past or his childhood yet.

"I'm not familiar with what one does in this realm Swan," he began shyly "but well today in the Enchanted Forest from the kingdom I came from; this day would have be my birth date."

Something about the set of his eyes and mouth let her know this date wasn't a cause for celebration.

"It's also a day I lost someone I would have liked to have known and loved Emma, my mother."

Emma took a moment to let that knowledge sink in and placed her hand in her familiar position over his heart, the gesture said more to him than words could. She then slipped her arms around him and looked up into his beautiful sea blue eyes.

"Killian, I never liked remembering my birthdays either, that was until I came here and found _home_ with David and Mary Margaret and you Captain."

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

They then stood there for a while just resting their heads on each other's shoulder, listening to the sea.

"Is there any way I can bribe the Deputy Sheriff not to arrest me on my birth date?" Killian asked (it wouldn't be the first time) "Maybe she'd rather share some fine rum on the Jolly Roger than fill out paper work at the station?"

Town had still to get over the last _big crisis_ , which left Emma understandably slightly demoted from a sheriff to deputy. She was sure David would be fine at the station alone today and tomorrow. She was just a phone call away if he needed her.

"Well I think confinement to your cabin is an appropriate punishment for your misdemeanours Captain."

Killian's face crinkled into his dimpled smile as he raised his eyebrows at Emma.

"Besides you're a three hundred and something old pirate today so I best make sure you don't have any more senior moments by wandering off again and keep you under at least a twenty four hour watch."

Emma smirked when she saw Killian visibly swallow as she opened the passenger door.


	35. Closure

4

 **A/N** So dear readers this is the final chapter. Some Captainswan fluff, for how else could it end with the Saviour and Pirate Captain.

It has been an amazing, creative journey. Thanks for supporting my first foray into fanfiction. An extra special thanks to Spartanguard, PastOneonta and Drowned Dreamer for all your positive reviews and for being supportive of a new writer through all the chapters with your humour and encouragement.

 _Storybrooke_

When he became Captain Killian Jones, he swore he would never again look down in fear or submission; he would always stare directly at his enemy, so they could see his deadly intents clearly in his sea blue eyes.

When he became the ruthless pirate with the fierce, bloodthirsty reputation, he swore he would never again wear the colours associated with the Royal Navy of white or naval blue. It would always be black or other dark colours for him, to match his heart and soul.

When he came to port he would no longer be the shy, gentlemanly, young naval officer. He would let women know exactly what was on offer at the taverns he frequented, as he flirted and seduced his way through numerous realms' ports.

When he became Captain Hook, he swore he would never love another again and he would get his revenge for Milah's death no matter how long it took or where he had to sail to achieve it. Women could warm his bed but they would never warm his cold heart again.

When he was climbing the beanstalk in the Enchanted Forest some three hundred years later all that he had sworn to, seemed to keep slipping away from him, as he watched the fearless, fair headed woman beside him.

He shamelessly flirted with her. He scratched behind his ear in that calculated way that left most women with want, though with her, he realised much to his horror, it was because he genuinely felt nervous of her no nonsense demeanour. He treated her wounded hand, got betrayed by her and betrayed her right back. He swore to her he was done with her, though he knew it was a lie he had deliberately told himself, just so he could turn his back on the imprisoned damsels in distress and _her_ as he walked away, his slightly thawed heart heavy with regret.

When he stood at the Jolly Roger's wheel and looked at the magic bean in his hand, he swore that the desolation and loneliness that had been with him for centuries was no more than a cold, calculating pirate deserved, that redemption was something only heroes got in storybooks and he was most certainly no hero. But for _her_ , he could be…couldn't he?

When he was in Neverland he swore he _would_ win her heart one day just by being him, the true him, a man of honour.

When he did eventually win it (or at least when she finally admitted it) he swore he would love and support her with all of his heart and soul and become a better man, one that she so deserved.

"Hey you okay over there Killian." Emma looked over at her unusually quiet boyfriend lost in thought, staring out of the truck window as they approached the harbour.

"Aye love." He turned to her and gave her that habitual, half sad smile he thought fooled her that things were indeed okay.

"You know as a suspected perp I'll have to question you. See if you are telling the truth about certain things or events." Emma pulled up to the Jolly Roger's berth.

"Aye love and what would those things be?" Killian raised his eyebrow and grinned. He was back, the scoundrel.

"Well," Emma pulled the hand break on, got out of the truck, walked over to the gang plank and looked up at the ship. She had a strange look on her face Killian couldn't quite read.

"Let's start at the very beginning Captain."

"Well deputy that might take quite some time." He laughed as he cocked his head at her.

"That's fine. I've called in to David and said I had to confine you in the Roger's brig for some misunderstanding with Mrs Hubbard, I've got all day."

"The old crone? Hah I probably made her morning, can't imagine she gets much excitement living out there by herself" Killian rolled his eyes upwards with his usual disbelief someone (female) wasn't enchanted by his charismatic presence.

"You are one incorrigible son of a ….mmmph."

Killian kissed Emma firmly on the lips before she could finish that sentence. She blushed at her insensitivity given what he had shared with her less than an hour ago about his mother, though that didn't stop her enjoying the passion of his kiss. They then gently rested their foreheads together for a moment or two.

"Umm so.." Emma stepped back, put her hands in her jean pockets and looked directly at Killian. "Let's start at the beginning Captain."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him up towards the captain's quarters. Once standing beside the hatch she smirked.

"First thing I need to establish is if you were telling the truth at Lake Nostos?"

"Lake Nostos?" Killian pulled his head back in his familiar gesture of puzzlement "What has that got to do with the crone Swan?"

"Well as you know I have a superpower, one that lets me sense if someone is lying right."

"I'm quite familiar with your skill Swan, it makes it very hard to surprise you with endearing, romantic gestures," he shook his head ruefully.

" So Captain we have an instrument in this world, where a person gets asked yes/no questions to test the waters so to speak about whether they are telling the truth. Then the investigators ask them the questions they need, to determine the truth of the matter under investigation. It's called a polygraph."

Killian looked at her in puzzlement, not following her at all.

"But since we don't have one here in Storybrooke I will have to investigate you with another method to find the truth."

"Ask away love, you know me, open book and all. He then raised his eyebrows "Well almost all the time, except when some crocodile possesses my heart, or some sea witch comes along, or a curse wipes my memories or if I become ….well you know." They both shuddered as they thought of all the crises they had faced together since meeting each other.

"Sooo, I thought that you could answer a couple of questions for me Pirate, strictly as part of my investigation to determine your umm honesty."

"Pirate now is it Swan? Killian stepped back and gave her a bow "As you wish Princess." He gave her his smug grin, his face clearly said " _give it your best shot_."

"Good. As I said let's start at the beginning, at Lake Nostos, are you sure you can handle it Killian?"

"Handle what love?"

"I want to see if you were telling the truth, while we were sword fighting, before I knocked you out," Emma said in a seductive voice while placing her hand on his chest.

She looked at him, waiting for him to understand. He was usually so much more perceptive, stupid pirate.

"Swan I don't know …oh" Oh yes he remembered all right judging by the sudden pink tinge of his ears. "Really?" He looked stunned "Right now?"

"You'd prefer we did something else birthday boy?" She grinned at his rather flummoxed deportment. It very much reminded her of storybook Hook. But then the usual self-assured attitude returned to the Killian she knew in the here and now.

"It would be terribly bad form of me to hinder…..your investigations," he took her hand and kissed it and then gave her a very typical Captain Hook wink as he lead her eagerly down into his cabin.

Emma lay there and listened to the sea, a gentle lapping against the hull. Surrounded in the warmth of the Jolly Roger's captain's cabin and more significantly its captain, she stretched out, completely sated and in total contentment.

Her imaginings of finally being intimate with Killian had always been of the pent up passion, dam finally bursting and furniture being broken variety. In reality he had totally surprised her.

Killian had been tortuously and deliciously slow in his ministrations, taking his time to get to know her body these past few hours. He declared in his sensuous voice, since he had waited a very, very long time for this moment, it was her time to be patient. _Rapscallion!_

She chuckled. He definitely wasn't lying to her that day at Lake Nostos, not in the slightest.

"So is today exactly the day of your birthday in the Enchanted Forest Captain?" she murmured into his chest. A chest she could finally appreciate fully as she gently caressed the dark hairs covering his muscles. She tried very hard not to actually purr.

"Aye, according to my calculations of your star movements and what Belle has helped me find on the information net."

"The internet."

"On the inter…net. I am calculating in this world it is most likely today love."

"Today huh, well birthday boy best we do something to celebrate this evening, after all how many hundreds of years old are you?"

"Old enough to know that these past hours with you definitely exceeded any birthing dates of the last few centuries Swan." He gently nuzzled her neck.

"Besides I am reluctant to tell you my real age in case, how is it you say in this world? You'll trade me in for a younger model,"

He said it with an adorable, rarely seen, sheepish Killian grin as he battered those long lashes at her. Seriously were men even allowed to do that? Damn his devilishly handsome looks. Emma composed herself so she could speak above a whimper.

"Hmm I think it's safe to say after these "past hours" I'm definitely sticking with vintage Captain."

Killian smiled into her shoulder and wrapped his arms tighter around Emma. It had taken a few hundred years but Killian felt a peace settle over him that had seldom came with this date.

What better way to honour a woman who gave her life up to enable him to enter into the world all those centuries ago. It was a life he had squandered on hate, revenge and a self-serving ethos. But now he did not hesitate to completely give his entire being, his body, soul and heart over to the love and care of another woman. The one who had given him a second life, a worthy life his mother would have always wanted for him. He sighed with blissful joy.

Later that afternoon after some more _investigations,_ Emma's phone kept beeping. She finally gave up trying to ignore it and grabbed the insistent device.

"Oh hi Mary Margaret."

She hoped the smug, satisfied tone in her voice wasn't too obvious.

"Mary Margaret is everything ok, is everyone ok?" She immediately slipped into saviour mode at her mother's persistence to get hold of her.

"Oh umm yeah I guess that would be nice."

"Yes I'm sure he does like frosting."

"Definitely rum flavoured."

"Ok I'll see if I can lure him down there even if I have to handcuff him to do it. See you later then. Bye."

Emma smiled. She had told David why Killian had disappeared for he had been worried too. He had obviously told Mary Margaret who had then gone into full party organisation mode. Poor Killian. She wasn't sure how to tell him what was waiting for him at Granny's later on.

They were just a couple of yards from Granny's fence when Killian suddenly stopped. He looked almost nervous and unsure of himself.

"You okay Killian?"

"Give me a moment Swan. Tis a bit overwhelming for this old pirate."

"Don't tell me after all we've been through, the fearless Captain Hook is afraid of a room full of balloons, candles and frosted cake?" Emma teased.

He scratched nervously behind his ear. "Well it's more I don't like being the centre of attention Swan."

"What are you serious? Mr I'll swagger around 24/7 in a dramatic black leather outfit looking both startling and seductive at the same time." Emma pulled him closer to her.

"That's not how most people go about being unnoticed Killian."

He blushed, god damn it he actually blushed and looked nervously down at the ground.

"I mean ….I mean..I'm not use to being the centre of attention….. in the good way Emma."

He looked shyly at her through hooded eyes. "Sure when you're a dread pirate and scourge of all the seas, bent of revenge, being flamboyant is part and parcel of maintaining the reputation Emma. But this is ….well I haven't been…..the centre of attention for just being Killian, since well…since I was a boy. It's quite disconcerting Swan."

Emma leaned in and kissed him on his lips, a soft, tender kiss to reassure him. After all they were both former loners, had always been on the fringes of their societies and had always looked longingly in, but never actually been a part of something, until recently.

"Yeah it is, but that's what happens when you belong to a family Killian. Endless embarrassing, cheesy moments, because your family want to show you they care and that they love you.

"Come on captain, your family and friends are all in there waiting to celebrate this very important date with you."

He smiled, interlaced his hand with Emma's hand, took a deep breath and walked up Granny's path to join _their_ family in celebration of his birth date.

The End.

 **Notes**

 **This was inspired by the true navigational genius Captain James Cook who mapped and sailed the southern seas for England. His maps of antipodean lands were astonishingly accurate for 1769 and he revolutionised survival on long sea voyages during his command.**

 **Also Master and Commander Far Side of the World was an inspiration and of course Once Upon A Time for coming up with a fantastic, modern version of Captain Hook (no perms here).**


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